


Life is like a Hallmark Movie

by HallmarkDestiel, RedWitchQueen



Series: Cottonwood Falls [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam is a Nurse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Christmas, Dean was in the military, Doctor!Castiel, F u c k John Winchester with a Rusty Nail, F/F, F/M, Farmer!dean, Flashbacks, Gabriel also owns an adult Bakery/Candy store/Ice cream shop, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lawyer!Sam Winchester, M/M, PTSD, Past Relationship(s), Police officer!Gabriel, Slow Burn, firefighter!dean winchester, small town
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:23:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 78,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallmarkDestiel/pseuds/HallmarkDestiel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWitchQueen/pseuds/RedWitchQueen
Summary: Castiel Novak is a big city Doctor with two kids. Dean Winchester is a small town farmer and retired from the military who works as a firefighter with his own two kids. Both feel guilty for the deaths of their wives. Lisa had a brain tumor and Meg’s pregnancy is what killed her. Castiel blames himself for that. The Family farm is being threatened by the Bank. At first, Dean and Castiel hate each other (well Mostly Dean doesn’t like Cas) but Can true love save the day in time for Christmas in small town Cottonwood Falls, Kansas?
Relationships: Alex Jones/Patience Turner, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Clark Barker/Jack Kline, Crowley/Bobby Singer, Donna Hanscum/Jody Mills, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Josephine Barnes/Krissy Chambers, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: Cottonwood Falls [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082834
Comments: 114
Kudos: 97





	1. Fall from Grace

**Author's Note:**

> I like Hallmark movies okay. It’s the perfect combination.

[ ](https://imgur.com/HFjWa8J)

**Thursday. November 5th, 2020.**

  
Castiel Novak hated his Boss. He hated her a lot. Naomi was an awful person and she liked to see him suffer. So now, she was sending him to some backwoods hillbilly town in the middle of bum fuck Kansas because she thought it would “help” him and that he needed a “vacation.” Also, the town needed a new doctor. Castiel rolled his eyes. Why did she have to send him here? He hated small towns. He was used to being in the city. He was going to hate this. Nothing and No one could ever make this “vacation.” worth it. He couldn’t wait to leave.

\---  
Dean Winchester was working his ass off in the sweltering heat with the sun on his back. He had only a few hours to do this before he would have to meet up with the new doctor and show him around. He didn’t know why he had to be the one to do it. From what he heard, the guy was a dick but he had a job to do. He had to fix up the old house for the doctor. He had finished the inside with the help of his friends and now he was fixing up the outside. He was almost done. All he had to do was place one more thing and then the job would be done. He wiped the sweat off of his face and climbed down the ladder. Except that he missed a step and fell over ten feet and hit the ground with a sickening crack. He tried to move his leg but it was definitely broken. His farmhands, Lee Webb and Benny Lafitte, who had been working with him, came running.

“Dean! Are you okay?!” Benny asked as he went to help him.

“No, don’t move me. My leg is broken.”

Lee looked worried. “Boss, the new Doc isn’t here yet.”

“We still have to take him in. The nurses will take care of him as much as they can,” Benny said. 

Dean was beginning to slur his words. “Ring around Rosie, a pocket full of posies. Ashes… ashes… we all fall down.”

Benny and Lee shared a look. “Yeah. We need to get him to the clinic now.” They lifted him up, set him in the truck and hurried him into town. They rushed him inside as soon as they reached the building.

“Adam! Your brother broke his leg. He fell off the ladder.”

Adam looked up and his eyes widened. “Okay, quick, hurry and bring him to X-ray! I’ll get everything set up, then give him a sedative and something for pain.”

After completing x-rays, they wheeled Dean to a room while Adam carefully looked over the X-rays. It was bad, but not as bad as he first thought. No compound fractures breaking the skin, but both his tibia and fibula had breaks. Thankfully, there were no extraneous bone fragments. Just a hard, clean break on his fibula and what appeared to be a crack fracture of his tibia. If only the new physician was here already. He’d never handled a lower leg break on his own, but he’d assisted. Nervously he gathered the X-rays together with Dean’s chart and headed down the hall to the patient rooms.

Adam made his way to Dean’s room, passing the combination Admit Desk/Nurses Station on the way. He nodded at the dark haired stranger waiting for the nurse to finish her phone call.

As the nurse hung up and smiled, Adam heard the stranger’s gruff voice.

“Hello, uh… I’m Castiel. Castiel Novak. The new physician?”

Adam made a surprised face and turned to grasp the new doctor’s hand. “Oh, thank God, you’re here. We need your help.” He vigorously shook hands with the stunned dark haired man.

Doctor Castiel Novak, blinked. “What? Really? Right now?”

“Yeah, Dean broke his leg falling off of a ladder. It’s bad, Doc.” Benny came up, interrupting.

“Uh, sorry. I’m Adam Milligan. Dean is my brother. This is his friend Benny Lafitte.”

Castiel nodded. “Take me to him.”

The other three led Castiel to Dean’s room. Castiel pulled back the curtain and there he lay with wires connected to him. His eyes were closed. His breathing was steady. He was asleep, Castiel concluded.

“I just gave him something for the pain prior to his X-rays, so he’ll be out for while. You couldn’t have arrived at a more opportune moment. We definitely need your expertise to set his bones and get him in a cast,” Adam informed the doctor as he handed over Dean’s chart.

Castiel nodded again as he gave a quick perusal of Dean’s chart and X-rays Adam provided.

“Good work, …nurse?” Castiel addressed Adam.

“Yes, Head Nurse Milligan.”

“Okay, let’s get these bones set and your brother in a cast.” Dr. Novak smiled as he turned to the other two men. “We’ll need you to go to the waiting room so we can get to work.”

Benny and Lee began to protest, but one look from Adam and they quieted down and complied.

“Your brother’s friends are very loyal and protective. That’s rare and nice to see in people these days.” Castiel had begun to pull up the sheet to exam Dean’s leg.

“Well, Dean is a unique and rare man who inspire those qualities in others,“ Adam said fondly as he laid out prep for the bone setting.

Finally, after what seemed an interminably long time, Adam and Dr. Novak emerged from Dean’s room. Benny and Lee anxiously stood as the two approached. 

“How’d it go, Doc?” They asked in unison.

Castiel began to explain Dean’s injuries and mending process. “Well, Mr. Milligan has a broken fi—“

“Uh, it’s Winchester,” Adam said, stopping the confused doctor with his hand gesture.

Castiel’s eyebrow rose in question. “Oh, My apologies. I thought you said your name was Milligan and Mr.…Winchester was your brother.”

“Yes,” Adam quickly explained, “we’re half brothers. Same father, just different moms.”

Castiel squinted and slowly cocked his head as he tried to process this information.

Sensing his confusion, Benny offered, “Adam’s mother never married so he kept her surname.” Benny’s crystal blue eyes flashed kindly at Castiel.

An understanding smile spread across the doctor’s face. Deep blue eyes shining back, he nodded, “I see. Well, Mr. Winchester has suffered two breaks—one on each bone of his lower leg. It’s not as bad as first thought. He’s a very lucky man. Luckily, the worst break is on the fibula, which is the smaller bone. The tibia, or shinbone, has a bit more than hairline fracture. The bones were still aligned, so no surgery was necessary to set them properly, just a slight manual manipulation on the worst break on the fibula ”

“Did you examine his head, Doc?” Lee joked, “because his mind is pretty messed up sometimes.”

Castiel hesitated, glancing back and forth between the two men.

“C’mon, Lee, let the Doc finish,” Benny chided, giving a teasing wink at Castiel.

Castiel felt the corner of his lips raise in a self-conscious smile. 

“I’ve set the bone and placed a long cast on Mr. Winchester. Luckily, he had proper care quickly which reduced any swelling, so I was able to immediately put him in the long cast rather than putting on a temporary soft boot and having to wait for swelling to go down before putting on the long cast. Thus, it will reduce the time he will have to wear the long cast. And that is for a minimum of six weeks, possibly up to 8 weeks, though most likely not any longer since the tibia, the, uh, shinbone,” he clarified, “only has the hairline fracture….”

“Oh, Cher! My brother is gonna go stir crazy having a cast on his leg for six weeks!” Benny burst out turning to Lee with a surprised, but wary look.

Castiel squinted and frowned as he angled his head at the use of the word “brother.” How many brothers did Mr. Winchester have?

“Well, actually, Mr. Winchester will not only need to wear the cast for that term, he will also have to stay off his leg for much of that time. No walking with crutches, but eventually using them knee up or using a knee scooter will be allowed.”

A loud burst of laughter erupted from the two men. 

“Oh, good luck convincing Dean of that!” Lee hooted.

“Well, it is imperative that Mr. Winchester stay off the leg for it to heal properly as well as not create more issues down the road,” Castiel spoke adamantly. “This is a serious fracture and requires long term care. Following the initial six to eight week long cast, he’ll then transition to a short cast for three to five weeks, when he’ll be able to begin placing slight weight for short spurts. Finally, he’ll be fitted for a short, soft boot which he’ll wear for another three or four weeks. Now this is a walkable, removable-for-bathing boot, but will have to be worn all day, except for bathing and during his several tri-weekly three or four months of physical therapy. ”

All three of Dean's companions were silent. None but Adam had realized the extent of care it was going to take to get Dean back on his feet.

“Well, we’ll do all we can to help out,” Lee assured him seriously. Lord knows Dean’s been there plenty enough times for me and Benny here. We take care of our own.”

“That’s right, Doc, I’d go to hell and back for Dean Winchester,” Benny added with resolute sincerity.

“Okay, gentlemen. If you’ll excuse me, I was not planning on starting work on this day and I have my vehicle hooked up, towing a small moving trailer behind it, blocking three spaces in the clinic parking area. I just stopped by to pick up keys for my supposed living arrangements, find out the location, and get there so I may endeavor to unload said trailer of my belongings before nightfall.”

Benny turned to him. “Oh, yeah! Hey, Doc?”

“Call me Castiel, please.”

“Alright, well Cas, Dean was supposed to show you around, so I guess Lee and I will. Dean fixed up the old barn and turned it into a house for you. That’s what he was doing before he fell.”

Castiel blinked. Dean was doing all that… for him? Why? He didn’t even know him.

“Okay. You can take me to it.”

“Sounds good. Come on, Cher.”

Lee and Benny led Castiel out of the clinic, leaving Adam to tend to his brother. The trip to the farm was short and before long, they had parked in front of what was now an old farmhouse.

Lee and Benny got out and began helping Castiel carry in his almost meager amount of belongings.

“We’ll help you inside and let you get settled in. The Wifi password is on the desk. Dean may live on a farm but he ain’t stupid.”

“Uh… well… thank you.”

“No problem, Cher.” Benny said and then took the bags inside. Once everything was done, the other two left after saying goodbye. Castiel connected himself to the Wifi and sighed.

He would meet Dean Winchester tomorrow, he decided.


	2. Meet the New Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two was rewritten completely to make it better.

Castiel had busied himself unpacking after he had set up his wifi. He happily saw there was already a nice big screen smart tv placed prominently on the main wall of the sizable Barnhouse’s living room. He unpacked and set up his computer, small stereo and hooked up his DVR/DVD player. Then he started his favorite relaxing playlist and began unpacking his kitchen items and putting away his groceries and pantry staples.

His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since very early this morning when he got up to begin the long drive to this…this nowheresville of a town. Even while “in town” at the clinic, he hardly saw too much of a town. Granted his mind was preoccupied with a mental list of things he needed to get done before he picked up Claire and Jack from his brother Gabriel’s house tomorrow evening. 

He hadn’t planned on staying at the hospital…uh, clinic, as long as he had and his ice cream had half-melted. He was glad he’d purchased the good-sized ice chest and filled it with ice to keep his groceries chilled on the long drive here. He had thought he’d better pick up extra groceries before leaving civilization since he wasn’t sure of the variety of items at the local grocer nor how well stocked they may be.

He quickly chopped some onions, bell peppers, and a small bit of celery, broccoli florets and shallots. He really wanted a quick shrimp sauté, but with the late hour and so much to do, he had neither the time nor the inclination to clean and peel the fresh shrimp he’d purchased. He peeled and diced a few new potatoes and drizzled olive oil in the pan. He tossed in the onions, bell peppers and celery and let them sizzle while he cut a chicken breast into thin strips. He thought he heard a noise.

He washed his hands and decided to pour himself a glass of wine, stirring his vegetables and adding in cayenne, paprika, fresh thyme and a few other choice spices. He rarely spiced his food up this much anymore, because most of the meals he made had to be kid friendly, and spicy and children don’t mix well.

Checking to see the onions were almost translucent, he tossed in a bit of curry powder and the potatoes. There it was again. He grabbed his phone and lowered the volume. Yes, there was definitely something scratching at his door. He looked around. He had no weapon. Did they have cougars or bear out here? He quickly pulled his pan off the fire and grabbed the fireplace poker. He peeked out the peephole, but didn’t see anything. He heard the noise by the kitchen side door. He crept over and leaned to look out the window. Nothing. Now it was back at the front door again. And at this point Castiel put the poker down, because he was positive it was no bear or mountain lion. It was definitely the sound of a dog that was sad or scared. He opened his door to see there _was_ a dog. A very cute, medium-size, very fluffy dog. It had backed up a bit from the door and stood warily examining Castiel. He could see that there was no collar.

“Hey, Boy.” Castiel knelt and softened his voice. Obviously, this dog was abandoned and frightened. It had been lightly raining for the past hour and Castiel noted the completely muddy state of the poor, wet animal. He presented the back of his hand to sniff and gently coaxed and cooed until the dog decided he was friend and not foe. Finally, Castiel was able to get the dog inside and was immediately rewarded with a big, wet kiss and muddy paws all over him. He laughed and decided he’d quickly give the dog a bath, because who knew if this dog was the type to jump on furniture. His dinner would have to wait.

Castiel grabbed the Dawn dish liquid, and called the dog to the bathroom. Surprisingly, the little fellow jumped right into the tub as soon as Castiel bent to turn on the water.

“Well, what a good…” Cas leaned over to examine the underside of the dog. “Girl! What a good girl! You like baths?”

Well, apparently whoever had owned the dog before raised a well-mannered and happy animal. Castiel was able to make quick work of the bath, quickly pulling the shower curtain closed when the dog began to shake the water off in the end.

Castiel toweled the dog off as much as possible and dug in the box on the floor labeled “Bathroom.” He pulled out the blow dryer and a large toothed comb and began working on the furry creature. The dog sat obediently, all the while wagging her tail. Castiel was impressed and began saying common dog names trying to see if the dog responded to any. Even though the dog was in such a sorry state, she seemed to be perfectly healthy. He'd have to ask around and try to see if she still belonged to anyone.

After cleaning the tub and wiping down the floor, Castiel headed back to the kitchen and his dinner. He pulled a second chicken breast out for the dog. He really had nothing much else to offer the poor creature tonight. He grabbed a serving bowl and filled it with water. The dog greedily consumed several gulps.

Castiel pulled out a second pan and poured a little chicken broth in as it heated, before placing the second breast in it. He returned to his pan that was just heating up to a sizzle again. He stirred the contents until the potatoes were almost done and put in the chicken, some fresh minced garlic, the green onions, a bit of broth and a splash of his wine. Finally, he tossed in the broccoli. He cut himself a beefy tomato and sliced up a cucumber, tossed in fresh spinach and quickly mixed up a vinaigrette to go over it. He sliced a bit of fresh baked bread he had picked up from his favorite bakery before leaving the city and cut himself a few slices of cheese. He was suddenly famished. 

When all was set at the table and he’d refilled his wine glass, he sat down and put the dog’s chicken breast down. Obviously, the dog was as hungry, if not more so, than he was.

By the time he’d finished eating, cleaned the kitchen, emptied the majority of the boxes and showered, it was well past midnight. The kids could finish emptying the few boxes left. Most of it was their toys, books and clothes anyway. Castiel locked up, refilled the dog’s water bowl, turned out the lights and headed to his new bedroom. He was surprised that the mattress was actually perfect for him, not too hard, not too soft. He checked his alarm and was just rolling over after turning off the light when the dog jumped on the bed, did two circles and settled down to sleep next to him with his chin on Castiel’s hip. Cas gently massaged the dog’s head, smiling to himself, and promptly fell asleep.

Castiel had woken with a start when his alarm went off. He’d forgotten there was a dog in bed with him. He opened the kitchen door for the dog and found it was still raining. The dog ran out anyway, but stayed against the house under the eaves. Castiel saw the dog squat down, do her business and quickly run back inside. 

“Well,” he said to himself, “looks like you might have yourself a dog, Castiel Novak.”

He fed the dog another chicken breast, gave her fresh water, made himself a quick bowl of cereal with sliced banana and some green tea. After cleaning the kitchen, he took a quick shower and readied to leave. He opened the door to see if the dog would leave. The dog would not go outside and just sat there looking at him expectantly.

He went to the cupboard, poured some Cheerios in a bowl, filled the water bowl again and left to his car. He came back inside, turned the television on to Animal Planet, pet the dog on its head and left again. He hoped he would not come home to find the sofa eaten or the door scratched up.

Castiel Novak loved his work. He really enjoyed meeting and helping people. He just was in an awful mood because this was not the venue of his choosing. He tried to clear the grumpiness out of his head as he drove to the clinic. He missed the twins, even though it’d only been one day since he’d seen them. He really needed to get them settled, find things for them to do, find out more about school and get them comfortable in their new home. He really wanted them to be happy and needed to change his own attitude starting right now, before they sensed how he felt and ruin any excitement they had over moving to the country.

Though he still felt like the dark, rainy morning, he resolved to be positive and felt better as he pulled into the clinic parking lot just as the rising sun began peeking through the parting clouds. He smiled, feeling that it was a good sign. 

Doctor Novak greeted the nurses and called an introductory meeting to familiarize himself with the staff and general procedures and systems. One of the nurses’ aides gave him a cursory tour of the facilities, which was hardly necessary since he’d seen much of it yesterday when he was pressed into work prematurely. He was given a quick rundown of his appointments for the day and overnight patients stats. Just two overnight patients. One being monitored for a kidney stone passing which caused a minor infection and the other, the broken leg of Dean Winchester. He headed out to make rounds.

Dean awoke slowly. He had great difficulty opening his eyes and his head felt like he had the worst hangover ever. He could barely focus on anything and blinked rapidly. He still couldn’t see anything; everything was a big blur. Why was he so groggy? God, his mouth felt like he’d eaten an entire bag of sand and cotton balls. 

And WHY was the curtain in his bedroom open to the giant blazing sunrise?!

Fine! He’d keep his eyes closed until he woke up a little bit more. It’s not the first morning of his life he’d been so drunk that he had these issues. He couldn’t remember the amount of times he had to find his way around his home drunk and in the dark. All he knew was that he had to piss like a racehorse and needed the bathroom NOW! His leg felt heavy and seemed to be stuck in the blankets or on the footboard. Eyes closed, he sat up and extracted his leg from the covers or whatever. He didn’t care. He must’ve fallen asleep with his leg on the footboard tangled in covers and stayed that way all night because it felt like his leg was asleep and had been bent at an odd angle all night. 

“Man! I guess I had a good time, whatever I did last night,” Dean mumbled with a smirk as he swung his legs over the side of the bed rubbing his eyes. He really felt the urge to go as soon as he had sat fully upright and decided he’d sprint to his bathroom as soon as his feet hit the floor. 

Unfortunately, the rest of his body also hit the floor as soon as he pushed himself off the bed. He frantically tried reaching for his nightstand as he felt himself falling, but found one arm entangled in tubes, monitor wires and the nurse call button/tv remote wires, which also caused him to spill the fresh pitcher of ice water on the table on top of himself on his way to meet the floor. His other hand had reached out and found the rolling overbed table, which immediately began to roll away from him and flipped over as he blindly tried to steady himself, but only succeeded in pulling it down on top of him. Besides the shock and pain of the fall, the icy water did him in; he peed on himself, and then just lay on the floor crying in pain and humiliation, and yelling in anger as strong hands began to lift him.

“Mirry! Miracle!” Dean frantically called out flailing his arms at the people trying to help him. 

Castiel had just exited the kidney stone patient’s room and was heading down the hall towards Mr. Winchester’s room when he heard the crash. Yelling for a nurse or orderly to help, he rushed into Dean’s room at the same time as one of the nurses. Thankfully, it was one of the large, strong male nurses. 

Dean landed a hard right fist directly on someone’s nose. He didn’t care. He just couldn’t deal with all these people pulling and grabbing him right now.

They grasped Dean beneath the arms and began to lift him up. It took a lot of struggling and trying to get their calming words to sink in over Dean’s yells and struggles, but they finally got him settled back into the bed. 

Castiel instructed the nurse to ready another sedative as they continued trying to get Dean to calm down.

"Please, Mr. Winchester. You’ve got to calm down. You may have done serious injury to your broken leg!” Castiel, hand pinching his own nose, tried to sooth through the pain, and blood dripping from one nostril down his lip.

"Why did you get out of bed?" Cas tilted his head in concern. 

“I was- I was trying to get comfortable, and was really thirsty and I needed the bathroom, then I started to run to the bathroom and I began to fall. As soon as I got out of bed, I…I… just began to fall, I guess I knocked things over and onto the floor and- and myself. S-S-Someone tossed cold water all over me, all over me.” Dean rubbed his eyes in despair and threw his hands in the air, frustrated. 

Cas sighed, "Well, you should not have even attempted to get out of bed at all. Please, try to relax. I’ve ordered a sedative for you, nothing strong. It will just allow you to relax a bit and alleviate any additional pain or discomfort you have possibly caused yourself.”

The tall nurse was busying himself adjusting Dean more suitably in the bed on some towels he had laid out beneath his patient. Dr. Novak glanced at the nurse’s name tag quickly.

“Uh, Nurse Ezekiel, here will help get you settled back in bed, cleaned up and change your clothing. I was planning on releasing you this morning, but since your recent mishap, I’ll be keeping you for observation and a re-examination until at least late afternoon to early this evening. You really seem to have a problem staying upright and on your feet, Mr. Winchester,” Cas said in what he thought was a good-natured, bedside jesting tone as he winked at his patient. 

“Once Nurse Ezekiel has, uh, finished cleaning you up,” Castiel nodded towards Dean’s crotch with a sympathetic smile, “and gotten you dry and comfortable, I’ll be back in to examine you again. However, once he has gotten you settled I need you to stay in that specific position to keep pressure off your leg... Since it is broken in a couple of places. We don’t want swelling to occur." 

Dean just sat, mouth agape, staring at the doctor. What was he talking about? WHY was a doctor in his room? Wait, now that his eyes were clearing, he slowly came to the realization that this was not his bedroom at home. He looked around, confused. 

“My leg is broken. How did I break my leg?” Dean’s voice rose with each syllable.

“Son of a—I don’t remember how I even got here.” He practically yelled, snatching his arm out of the grasp of the nurse who was straightening up the various wires and tubing around Dean. Cas nodded and spoke in a soft, soothing tone, 

"Your friends brought you here yesterday and I arrived at a good time to help and do my job. However, being informed, and now having first hand knowledge of how... challenging you are. I am letting you know that you will be resting for 6 weeks. No heavy labor or serious work for the time being. But I’ll give the details during my in-depth visit which I’ll save until after Ezekiel here has completed his cleaning you up. I’ll take my leave, so you can have some privacy." 

Castiel tapped a light hand on the foot of the bed and smiled as he turned towards the door. “I’ll return in about 20 minutes or so. I’m Doctor Novak, by the way. Doctor Castiel Novak.” He winked at Dean and took his leave closing the door behind him. What was that?! Why did this doctor keep winking at him, and poorly at that. Dean’s sleep-blurred vision wasn’t fully cleared up yet, but he could see enough to know when he was being treated in a condescending manner. And by a doctor who couldn’t even wink without scrunching both sides of his face up before the one eye would wink. Worst bedside manner ever. What kind of doctor makes fun of their patient falling out of bed? Dean began to steam about that. Even more so than thinking about his leg being broken. Can’t be that bad anyway. Kids break their limbs all the time. No big deal. He suddenly became aware of Ezekiel unsnapping the sleeves of his hospital gown and beginning to lift it off. He moved his arm in a helpful gesture as the nurse gingerly grasped the very wet gown and started to roll it up from the bottom. This nurse is a pretty good-looking guy. Nice strong arms, and gentle, but firm touch. Dean looked up into the nurse’s eyes and gave him one of his sexiest smiles and nodded. 

“I have some warm bath water here in the basin. I’m going to give you a quick sponge bath to wash the urine off and have you feeling clean and fresh, and in a new clean, dry gown in no time.”

Ezekiel spoke kindly and professionally without a hint of disgust or embarrassment as he went about his ministrations. Dean’s breath caught in his throat as heat rose to his face. His mouth went dry and he almost laughed at the nurse’s words, until he realized that he no longer had to piss like a racehorse or at all. Sweet Jesus. Did he pee himself? He was suddenly mortified and could feel himself beginning to gasp and knew he would most likely hyperventilate. What other humiliation had he been subject to that he didn’t remember since yesterday? He started to involuntarily kick his good leg and tried to sit up. He felt a warm towel quickly placed over his exposed lower half and then the gentle, but firm hand of the nurse pressed against his chest. 

“Woah, woah. It’s ok, sir. Please relax. It’s ok.” The hand was still firmly splayed directly over the center of his chest. 

“It’s ok. It’s ok.” 

  
  


The nurse’s calm, soothing tone rumbled in his ears in an almost whisper. He felt another warm hand softly run down his hand and felt the “shh, shhh” wash over him. It oddly brought Dean back from the edge.

“Good, sir. Now breathe. Focus on the breath. Deep slow breaths.”

Dean could hear the nurse breathing deeply in time to the words. He could feel the dizziness begin to dissipate. 

“There. You see. Breathe. It’s all ok.”

The nurse had been giving soft pulses with the hand splayed over his bare chest. Dean could feel that his heart rate had slowed and seemed to be working to match the slow steady rhythm of the hand pulsing on his chest. He took a few more breaths and stole a still embarrassed, yet amazed, glance at the nurse.

“My father used to suffer from panic attacks. He had been held as a prisoner of war during the Korean War. This was the only thing that worked sometimes.” The nurse spoke earnestly as he continued.

“I have been a nurse for over ten years and spent even longer than that taking care of my father as well as my nephew who was born with multiple birth defects and needs around the clock care. There is nothing that occurred here that should give you embarrassment or shame.” The nurse slowly removed his hands and dipped them in the basin of warm water to pick up the washcloth again and ring it out. He held it up to Dean who nodded. Ezekiel resumed the washing. Dean was tense and still mortified, but no longer felt the extreme panic.

“Thanks, Ez…Zeke. D’you mind if I call you Zeke?” Dean asked. “No, that’s quite fine, sir. It’s been my nickname since I was a baby.”

Zeke’s hands were washing Dean intimately now and Dean turned to look at the mess on the floor. He could feel the panic arising again, but Ezekiel matter-of-factly asked him to lean left, then right. He rinsed the washcloth as he explained that next he was going to wash the length of Dean’s legs. As he scrubbed Dean’s legs, the nurse explained how next, he’d have Dean roll to one side, while he washed his backside and legs, then do the same on the other side. The entire time Ezekiel washed Dean, he spoke about what to expect next. In no time, Dean found that he was clean, dry, re-gowned, and had been made as comfortable as possible and all without feeling any further embarrassment. His temperature had been taken and blood pressure checked. He laid back and took deep, easy breaths. 

“I have the orderly on his way to clean up and the doctor will be back momentarily I assume.” 

Dean’s face immediately got hot again, and he felt the edge of anxiety nudging him towards full blown panic. He really did not want to be in here while the orderly cleaned HIS piss off the floor. He wished the earth would swallow him up right now. Just as he was thinking that, there was a quick knock on the door and it opened before he could speak. The orderly burst into the room with a mop and bucket, and some spray bottles and cleaning rags. 

“Ok, Mr. Winchester.” Ezekiel boomed.

“I’m going to take your blood pressure now and your temperature. Please place this under your tongue.” 

Dean was shocked out of his panic as he turned to look incredulously at the nurse who had just taken his temperature. As he turned to see if the nurse had lost his mind, he was greeted with a thermometer being offered to his open mouth. In confusion he lifted his tongue and felt the thermometer put in place. He closed his mouth, still staring at the nurse who was now looking intently at the digital readout. “Good, good. Ok, sir, Let’s get your blood pressure.” The nurse wrapped the cuff around Dean’s arm and turned the pump on.

“And how are you feeling this morning, sir? Did you get a good night's rest?” Dean stared at the nurse like he had two heads.

“Uh, I guess, uh, I…I…don’t really, um, I don’t really remember last night, so I, uh, guess I slept uh, just fine?” 

“A good night’s rest is the best thing for a speedy recovery.” Ezekiel nodded and began to remove the blood pressure cuff.

“Ok, Mr. Winchester, the sedative I injected into your saline drip should begin to take effect shortly. I’ll leave you here to wait for the doctor’s return.” Ezekiel snugged the blankets around Dean’s chin and turned to head towards the door. Dean felt anxious and glanced over to the side of the bed where he had fallen and made such a mess. All he saw was a clean floor, a fresh pitcher of ice water on the overbed rolling table and the door as it clicked closed. Realizing that Ezekiel was not as mad as a hatter, he gave the nurse a respectful nod. 

  
  


“Thank you,” he said simply and full of gratitude

  
  
  


Dean could feel the sedative beginning to take effect. He was feeling such gratitude for the smooth and subtle way the nurse distracted him from feeling self-conscious and embarrassed in front of the orderly as he cleaned. Dean hadn’t even noticed the man actually cleaning. All he wanted to do was get up out of here and go home. How long had he been here anyway? Were the kids ok? Where was Miracle? He looked at his arm for his watch. Someone must’ve taken it off. He needed to call Sam. He looked towards the nightstand. Not his phone, but the room phone. He leaned as far as he could to grab it, but it was just out of reach. He sat back upright in order to get leverage to scoot himself closer to the edge of the bed. He leaned over again to try for the phone. Why do hospitals always put nightstands so far back against the walls when they know 99% of the time that the patient bed will be in the sitting up position making it difficult or impossible for the patient to get anything off of it. He noticed the equally out of reach pitcher of ice water and suddenly remembered how thirsty he was. 

“Well, that's just cruel and inhumane!” 

Mouth suddenly beyond desert dry, he licked his parched lips and looked longingly at the dark pink plastic and styrofoam container. He could hear the ice shifting in the water as it melted, mocking his thirst. He renewed his shifting efforts and then leaned as far over as he could. 

“Just great,” he mumbled as he realized he had leaned too far over in his groggy state and was once again heading towards the floor. 

“MR. WINCHESTER!” He felt hands on his shoulders grasping him and pushing him back up right, saving him a headfirst tumble to the floor.

  
  


“PLEASE, Mr. Winchester! You’ve got to stop with this reckless behavior! I’ve honestly never seen a patient as accident-prone. Do you always make such rash decisions heedless of the jeopardy you place yourself in?!” Castiel admonished sharply as he finished shifting Dean back against the pillows. 

“You should realize that your thoughtless actions may one day not only endanger yourself, but perhaps lead others into harm’s way as they endeavor to save you from yourself?” Castiel pulled his hand away from Dean’s shoulder and stared at his palm briefly. It was red. Dean felt a coolness on his left shoulder and then a plop onto his chest and stomach. He looked down. There was a smashed paper cup formerly filled with what looked like red jello. 

  
  


“Is that…is that strawberry jello and ice cream?” Dean asked looking down at the cup now resting on his lap.

“Nooo. No. That would be, uh, Pop Your Cherry-Vanilla Cream gelato with a…a Squirt of Jizt Cherry,” Dr. Novak leaned over to look at Dean’s shoulder where Dean was now studying the cherry sauce’s deep red handprint Castiel had left there, “much harder to get the stain off than strawberry jello.”

“Here let me get some towels.” Castiel went to the nearby sink and pulled several of the folded white paper towels from the dispenser. He used the spoon he picked up off the floor to scoop as much as he could back into the smushed paper ice cream cup, tossed it in the garbage can, and turned back to help Dean, who was already trying to wipe the melting red blobs off the sheet and his gown. Castiel began wiping up the blobs further down the blanket with firm and deliberate strokes, only thinking about how Gabriel was so proud of his new ice cream dessert, specifically designed to stain the lips and skin wherever it touched. This organic gelato’s cherry sauce had excessive red-blue food dyes “added to give one's lips and flesh that blood-red come hither look.” Exasperated, Castiel scrubbed harder, positive this blanket would give that “come hither look”, to the lap of all its patients for the rest of its days. 

It was at that moment, He noticed Mr.Winchester had stopped cleaning. Castiel had the distinct impression that he was being stared at. His wiping slowed to a stop in place on the spot on the blanket…that now seemed a bit higher and firmer than it had before. Castiel felt his own accursed hand involuntarily press the towels down to double check what he thought he was feeling as he tilted his head up to meet a scalding, but surprised startling green-eyed gaze from his patient. He stood upright, quickly removing his hand and averting his eyes.

“Apologies. I- I will get a nurse to- to assist you and bring a fresh gown. Please Mr. Winchester, for everyone’s sake… Just. Don’t. Move.” Dean just watched wide-eyed as the doctor fled the room. Castiel pulled the door closed behind himself and looked skyward as he leaned back against the wall. Christ on a cracker! Gabriel always seemed to have a hand in Castiel’s undoing in some way.

Dean thought his mouth was dry before, but now— He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. How does he always get himself in these predicaments? Seriously. Who else has these kinds of issues in their life? He hasn’t been with anyone in a while and stupidly flashes his seductive, “hey, there” look at an obviously straight male nurse. It has to be the medication they’d given him. And this doctor? What is his issue? First he seemed to be almost mocking Dean when he had peed on himself. Dean put his hands over his eyes. Remembering the embarrassing incident. It could be the doctor was just trying to make him feel better by winking and smiling, but Dean didn’t want to be placated or given sympathy. It just made him angrier about being in the position he was in. And he could also blame the doctor in part, because he was working on a place for the doctor to live when he stupidly had his mishap. But, jeez! Dean scrubbed his hands up and down his face and through his hair. What the hell with his body popping a boner while the doctor was wiping up the ice cream!? WHY did the doctor carry ice cream with him on his rounds? How unprofessional. Dean loved his little town, but how hard up were they to hire a podunk idiot of a doctor like that? Pop the Cherry Virgin Ice Cream? What was that? Why would a doctor be eating something named that at work? Everything about this doctor just made him balk. The only thing good about the man that he could think of right now was that he was extremely attractive, and had the most intriguing lips and bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. Attractive did not begin to describe the combination. Dean brought to mind the image of looking down at the top of the dark tousled hair as the doctor vigorously rubbed at the mess on the blanket covering his crotch. The pause, and then the slow upturn of those enormous blue eyes to look up at Dean… The look the doc gave him was so innocent, lovely and frightened that Dean saw it in slow motion, forgetting himself and his uncomfortable embarrassment for a moment. Really breathtaking! Something in him just wanted to reach out and touch that face in reassurance and stare into those blue eyes until he drowned. The door to his room opened after a quick knock. Adam walked in carrying fresh towels, washcloths and another fresh gown. 

“What. Are you doing, man? What’s going on. You're making me start to worry. Seriously, do I need to get in touch with your VA docs? I’m really getting concerned.”

“What? No!” Dean sat up a little and shook his head.

“I mean I just was left in this room without any explanation or means of communication or sustenance. I’m thirsty, man. I need water. I need my phone. I need to get the hell outta here. C’mon, a little help here!”

Adam smirked at the red mess covering Dean from shoulder to lap.

“And this? What is all this?” The nurse put his bundle down to start the cleanup process. 

  
  


“This!” Dean gestured to himself angrily.

“Blame this on that freak doctor walking around eating ice cream at wor…” Dean reddened noticing the doctor in question had walked into the room just in time to hear his denigrating remark. Dean rolled his eyes and hurriedly began to apologize. “

  
  


Look, Doc, I …”

“Mr. Winchester, I know I’m not your favorite person, and I know no one ‘intends’ to break their leg, and end up in a hospital with a ‘freak’ doctor,” Castiel raised both hands in a hooked finger-quotes gesture several times as he spoke in agitation,

“but please, if you can just stay ‘immobile’ in your bed for just a short while, perhaps I will be able to give you your diagnosis and care instructions and send you ‘on your way’. And just so you know, that ice cream was meant to be my lunch, but because I was informed that food services were having an issue this morning and would be late with the patient breakfasts, I thought I’d offer it to you as a holdover until the meals arrived. I’m sorry that your decision to once again get up from the safety of your bed, led to me smashing it all over you as I saved you from crashing head first to the floor.” Castiel did not mean to speak so harshly to his patient, but this particular one seemed to have a way of creating chaos and Castiel had enough chaos in his life created, however inadvertently, by his brother Gabriel.

“Now,” he continued abruptly before Dean could interrupt, “first, I will give you details on the type of breaks you have. Secondly, I will discuss what steps we have taken so far. Third, I will finally re-examine your leg to check for any undoing of my previous work due to your tumble this morning. Fourth, I will lay out my intended course of care, which I am fully prepared for you to reject, argue against and flout at every possible moment of your convalescence. Do you have any pertinent questions before I commence?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t know whether to apologize or get angry. He closed his mouth. Then, as Adam pulled the sticky gown off,

“May I please have a drink of water? Please, I’m so thirsty.” Castiel looked over at his patient feeling awash in guilt. 

“Certainly, Mr. Winchester. I apologize. Yes, you certainly may.”

He quickly grabbed the pitcher, filled the small pink cup to the brim, shoved the bendable straw in and held it to Dean’s mouth. Dean backed his head away at being treated like an infant, but the sight of the cold water and his thirst overcame him, and he eagerly leaned into the straw and sucked the icy liquid down in one go. He looked up to see the doctor filling his cup again, thankfully. This time he was waiting and ready to take the straw in his mouth and suck down a second cup. As he was drinking he looked down at the long fingers holding the cup for him. They were slender and long, and Dr. Novak used them and held them in such an elegant way. strength and tenderness would be an apt description. Dean sucked on the straw creating a large slurp sound as he emptied it again.

  
  


Startled at the noise, he looked up into those blue eyes. Dean felt like he was in a waking bad dream, torn between thirst and anger, and guilt and intrigue. He averted his gaze from the blue depths and nodded in thanks. 

“Yeah, that’s not coming off anytime soon,” announced Adam who had been scrubbing at the cherry stain on Dean’s abdomen and chest. 

“What is that anyway?”

“That’s cherry juice sauce with extra food dye added especially to stain flesh red.” Castiel said in a slightly annoyed tone.

“My brother, who owns an exotic adult bakery/confectionery/ice cream shop, tests new products out by giving me samples. This is his latest endeavor and I will have to let him know that it fulfills his requirements. However, I fail to see why anyone would like to walk around with that level of fruit stain on their lips, mouth or —other areas.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about that place! It’s new right?” Dean brightened up.

“What’s it called Gerald’s Sweet Treats? Or something like that.” 

“Gabriel’s Sweet Spot.” Castiel corrected, slightly exasperated.

“Yes.” Dean snapped his fingers. 

“That place is on my list. When’s it open, Doc?” 

“It soft opened one week ago, but he still had some things to get settled, so it only opened for a limited amount of hours a day, three days a week until next Saturday night when he’ll have his official big grand opening party.”

“Ah, now I get the— name of the Pop your Virgin Cherry cream.” Dean was definitely struggling to stay awake now, fighting against the sedative.

“Ok, Dean. You’re all set and clean again. Please don’t do anything else to make me or any of the other nurses have to come back in here to bathe and change you a third time.” Adam admonished. “Look, here’s the nurse’s call button. Call before you try doing anything yourself. And here,” he opened the bedside table drawer and placed a plastic handheld urinal on the bed near Dean. “If you need to …do other things, use the call button.” 

“Yeah, yeah. But Adam, how are the kids? How are Emma, Ben and Miracle? Sam’s still got ‘em, right? Do they know what happened? Are…are they worried? I need to see ‘em.” Dean asked with anxious concern.

“Of course! They’re…they’re fine,” Adam waved his hand in a fan motion. “They know what happened and — well, they’re just waiting for dad to get home. We didn’t bring them because you needed rest last night and they had school today, but you’ll be home later today, so no need to bring them here. You’ll be seeing them when you get home. You can hold out until then, right?” Adam patted Dean’s arm reassuringly.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Dean seemed a little deflated, but agreed.

“Ok, do you want me to stick around while the doc talks to you or are you good?” 

“Nah, I’m good. It’s just a broken leg, right?”

“Well, not a—” Cas began.

“I’m good.” Dean reiterated Adam put his hands up in surrender and backed towards the door. 

“Ok. Remember! Use the call button first!” He left, pulling the door closed behind him. Castiel began by explaining to Dean the nature of the breaks of the tibia and fibula. He explained that following breakfast, he wanted to have a few quick X-rays to make sure the bones had not shifted in the fall, he stressed the need to keep swelling to a minimum by keeping the leg elevated and had just finished explaining the importance of toe wiggling to keep the limb from getting stiff and aiding in blood circulation when the food services worker entered the room.

“Oh, thank god! I’m starving!” Dean blurted out, all smiles. Dr. Novak paused in his consultation while the worker placed the food tray on the overbed table, rolled the table into position in front of Dean and removed the lid for him.

“Thanks, sweetheart!” Dean gave her his most adoring smile as he picked up the utensils to dig in. Castiel went on when Dean nodded towards him. 

“Now, what I’m going to say next may change depending upon what the X-rays show us. You understand?” Dean nodded as he shoved another forkful of eggs in his mouth. 

“You can cut to the chase and just tell me how soon I’m going to get this cast off.” Dean said slapping the afflicted leg’s thigh.

“Mr. Winchester, I just explained to you the delicate process of the mending of breaks of bones of the lower legs. Please understand that it takes more than just wearing a cast for a ‘couple of’ weeks’ to properly heal your type of break.” Castiel realized Dean was still feeling the effects of the sedative, but his little crash course in Dean Winchester logic had him bracing for a heavy pushback on his care recommendations. 

“The number one thing you must adhere to is that you must stay completely off of your feet for at least three weeks. I mean no walking, no hopping, not even using crutches to go from one side of your house to the other. Bed to bathroom only if necessary and only using crutches with your broken leg held completely off the floor with absolutely no weight put on it. And definitely, no driving, no going shopping, and no work, as any heavy labor is absolutely out of the question. No excessive standing or putting pressure down on the leg in any way shape or form before a full six weeks has passed. You understand? No using your leg for at least six weeks!” Dean had stopped chewing and was just staring aghast at the doctor.

“No Heavy labor?... but I have to work on the farm.”

Castiel sighed, "You'll have to have someone else do the work. No excuses! If you do not do as I say and stay off the leg until enough time has passed for them to knit back together properly, you can do serious long term damage that will most surely result in a permanent limp, possible constant fatigue, the affected leg being shorter which in turn, can result in back pain issues and foot pain issues, just to name a few things that may occur if you do not follow my instructions for your healing process . Also, in the end, if you do not follow the course of care, you may find you won't be able to do anything for a much longer period because you’ll be spending more time healing further damage you’ve created from not listening. You need to be off your feet." Castiel warned sternly.

Dean shook his head. He had spent weeks working on that barn for this guy. “When can I go home?” 

“I haven’t even finished discussing the secondary aspect of your healing.” Dr. Novak had had stubborn patients before, but Dean Winchester was trying his considerable patience.

Dean stared through the doctor with eyes unfocused. He really didn’t need to hear all this, he just needed to get back home to his babies and get some work done. Harvest would be here soon enough and he had a multitude of projects to accomplish between now and then. 

“This afternoon or evening, I'm going to have the physical therapist show you how to use the crutches properly for your type of injury in the long cast. Eventually , after your approximate six weeks in the long cast, I will switch you over to a soft boot walkable cast. That will need to be worn for a minimum of three weeks, but possibly up to six weeks, depending on how well you adhere to my instructions and how your bones are coming along. This soft boot will be used along with crutches. There is also the option, which many prefer nowadays, of using a knee scooter instead or in conjunction with crutches. For now I’ll give you a prescription for Tylenol. Some people don’t need that and an OTC version is fine. But bone healing pain and duration varies in everyone. Do what’s right for you. Please” Castiel gave Dean a gentle friendly pat. 

“one of the nurses will take you down to Radiology soon. “I’ll let you know shortly thereafter what the verdict is.” Dr. Novak left the door cracked open slightly as he went. Dean stopped eating his breakfast. Anxiety finding a home deep inside, rooted around in the pit of his stomach. He wiped his hands and face, balled up his napkin and hummed it at his tray. He looked around the room. 

“Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Dr. Novak had a full morning of scheduled appointments. He began seeing patients immediately following his consultation with Dean. Usually the clinic scheduled surgeries on Fridays. The clinic was well equipped to handle light trauma and most minor surgeries, but for any major trauma and major or specialized operations, patients were sent to the hospital in the city. Today, however, since Castiel was new to the town, there were no surgeries scheduled, just general patient consultations and whatever emergency cases arose. 

He found that the small town patients were friendly as well as talkative. He learned quite a bit about prominent members of the town, the best stores to shop, the few restaurants in the area, and the best lures for trout fishing at a lucrative, yet secret location, from one man particularly obsessed with fly fishing. He also unexpectedly met what turned out to be the children and brother of Dean Winchester.

It was the second to last of his morning appointments. One parent and two teens with major cold or flu symptoms. Turned out that it was their uncle and the fourteen year old fraternal twins were the children of Dean Winchester.

Castiel was more intent on a quick once over of the patients’ histories and their current symptoms than he was in their names as he knocked once and entered the exam room, his head was still bent to their files as he walked in.

“Good morning, I’m Dr. Novak.” Castiel said as he glanced up, slightly startled at the height of the man standing in the exam room with his next patients. 

“Hi. Sam. Sam Winchester. And this is my niece, Emma, and my nephew, Benjamin,” Sam gesture his open hand to each teen in turn.

They both nodded.

Castiel knitted his brow and tilted his head questioningly. 

“Winchester?” He said glancing back down at his patient charts.

“Yes. I’m sure your familiar with the name because my brother Dean is your recent patient with the broken leg.” Sam offered.

“Yes, yes. I was not aware he had, uh, children, much less twins.” Castiel smiled at them as he put down their charts. “I, myself, am the father of twins,” he elaborated, puffing up proudly. 

He could see the resemblance between Dean, his brother, and his children. Although the twins both had dark brown eyes, he could see the similarity of their bone structure and facial features with that of his hardheaded, broken legged patient. They had similar nose structure, though the boy’s had the shovel-shaped quality like the uncle. The girl had the exact nose as well as bone structure, and lips of her father, while the boy seemed to have inherited all his mannerisms from his father. They both had their father’s eyebrows and freckles. All in all, they were were quite an attractive family with fine, delicate and aesthetically pleasing features. 

“I usually keep Ben and Emma with me during the weekdays when they get off school and some weekends. Every two weeks when Dean has his rotation at the firehouse, they stay the week with me,” Sam explained. ”Since Dean was working on finishing up your new place, they stayed with me after his tumble. But they already had both said they weren’t feeling well when they got home from school yesterday. Dean doesn’t even know yet. I didnt want to say anything immediately while he’s laid up. He’s got enough on his plate already.”

“Oh, so Mr. Winchester is a fireman? I was not aware.” Castiel said over his shoulder as he washed his hands.

“Yes, he works a one week shift every two weeks. He used to be full time before he decided to settle down and purchased the farm. Now he just does it every two weeks to have a steady income for off season funds and extra cash. Running a farm is not as lucrative as it once was now that most farms have gone corporate.” Sam grimaced ruefully.

“How is my dad?” Emma asked in a slightly frightened tone. Her big eyes and worried look tugged at Castiel’s heart.

“Well, he is doing fine. I’m going to be seeing him after I finish with my final morning patient after you two. I am most likely going to be releasing him not too long afterwards, perhaps by mid afternoon.” Castiel had begun to examine Emma, palpating her neck and checking her throat.

“Your father has broken the two lower bones of his leg and will require a lot of bed rest and much help from you two. With the type of break he has, it is very important for him to stay off his leg completely until I say it’s ok for him to once again walk on it only once I change his cast to a smaller cast.”

“I have found your dad to be a very responsible and strong-willed man who seems to be the type who will try to do more than he should, even when he should not, so you can really help him heal faster by making sure you help him around the house and keep him off his feet,” Castiel continued, smiling softly, “but he is doing fine and will make a full recovery if he follows my instructions.”

Emma and Ben looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

Castiel went over to the sink to wash again and returned to examine Ben.

“We’ll help all we can,” Ben assured, “but if dad wants to do something, there’s no way Emma or I can stop him. He just does what he thinks needs to be done when he thinks it’s needs to be done without ever thinking about if it might not be good for him.”

Ben looked worriedly to his uncle. “Uncle Sam, what are we going to do if he gets home and we haven’t found M––” 

Castiel cut Ben off as he gestured that he needed to check his throat and inserted a tongue depressor.

“We’ll deal with that when we get home…” Sam began only to be interrupted by Emma.

“Oh, god, I need the bathroom again, NOW!”

She jumped off the exam table where she was sitting next to Ben, flung the door open and ran down the hall moaning.

The doctor gave a sympathetic nod towards Ben. “I saw by your charts that you both are running a temperature, you’ve been nauseous, have a touch of diarrhea, and are having body aches.” Castiel remarked, pulling the stethoscope from his ears. 

“I’m sorry to say, but I’m certain this is the earliest stages of the flu.” Castiel was finishing his third handwashing. I’m going to prescribe you both some tamiflu. You will still feel sick,and continue with your flu symptoms, but the medication will lessen the symptom severity as well as shorten your recovery.”

  
  
  
  


Dr. Novak was sitting at the computer terminal inputting the prescription information. “Please get this from the pharmacy immediately and take the first dose as soon as you get home.” He looked up as Emma came back into the room, flushed and haggard looking.

“You washed your hands?” Sam asked her in a stern voice, yet with the most sympathetic puppy dog eyes.

“God, yes! I’m not a three year old!” Emma crossed her arms, pouting towards the ceiling.

“Ok, I need you both to make sure you drink lots of fluids, as much as you can keep down and definitely don’t forget to eat to keep up your strength. Pedialyte, Gatorade-type drinks,green or peppermint teas. Stay away, from energy drinks and keep the sports drinks to a minimum.

If you can’t keep anything down nibble saltine crackers, rice cakes, dry toast, until you’re feeling less nauseous. Tylenol for the fever and aches. Plenty of bed rest.”

Turning to Sam as he grabbed the patient exam/care summary, Castiel inquired, “I don’t know what arrangements you and your brother have for the coming week regarding the children, bu—”

They both turned towards the room as they heard the door fling open, just in time to see Ben’s backside fleeing down the hall. 

“Hmm…well as I—”

There was a loud liquid splatting sound accompanied by violent retching.

Sam went running down the hall to his nephew.

“Oh, god!” Emma yelled covering her mouth as she pushed Castiel and ran out the door heading towards the opposite direction. Castiel followed as her footsteps echoed down the hall. He heard a door slam open and more splatting and retching as Emma made it to the bathroom in time.

The desk nurse was on the phone to order cleanup and the floor nurse headed towards Emma.

Ben ran off to the other restroom as Sam began to follow. 

“No! Just leave me alone for now,” Ben moaned.

“Ok, I’ll be back in the exam room if you need me.”

Castiel and Sam turned back to the room.

“They’re not going to be able to stay with Dean in this condition,” Sam exclaimed sadly.

“You’re correct. I was getting ready to ask you about your arrangements for the week ahead, specifically for this reason. There’s no way Mr. Winchester can handle two sick teens, and stay off his feet. I also take it, judging by your stated avuncular care schedule, that there is no Mrs. Winchester, spouse or mother in the picture?” Castiel gave Sam a sympathetic gaze.

“Uh, no. No Mrs. Winchester. No spouse. No mom.” Sam glanced down. “Lisa, Dean’s wife, their mom, died about 6, almost seven years ago now. Cancer. It was rough. And though it was quick, it was devastating to them all. I’m just glad Dean had the kids to keep him busy and keep his head in the game, otherwise, I—I don’t know if he’d… you know…”

Castiel nodded and placed a steadying hand on Sam’s shoulder. 

“It’s ok. I do understand.” 

“Yeah, “ Sam cleared his throat, …so I guess your question was going to be whether I could keep them with me until they were feeling better?”

“Yes, I was hoping you, or someone, perhaps, would be staying with your brother for his first few days back home, but I do think it’d be better if the children were not brought home to avoid risk of exposing Mr. Winchester to influenza. We don’t need him trying to run to the bathroom in an effort to avoid a bedpan, which I’m sure he’d be averse to for any reason.”

Sam agreed, nodding with a grin.

“I could possibly keep him overnight one more night, depending upon what this second set of X-rays reveal, but I’m afraid that would be pushing the insurance company a bit further than they’d be willing to go.”

“No, I’ll keep them with me. We definitely don’t need Dean getting sick on top of everything else.” Sam furrowed his brow thinking. “I’ll check with my brother, Adam and some friends. I’m sure between us all we can arrange something.”

Emma came back in.

“Can we go see dad now? I just want to go home and lay down next to him.”

“No, I’m sorry, young lady.” Castiel used his gentlest “let-your-patient-down-easy” voice. “Unfortunately, both you and your brother are contagious right now and I’m afraid contagious patients are not allowed in the patient rooms. Nor would it be advisable to be around your father while he is unable to make it to the bathroom in a timely manner as you and your brother are barely making it there yourselves on two good feet. We wouldn’t want your father attempting to run down the hall.”

“You and Ben are…you and Ben are going to stay with me awhile longer,” Sam stressed as Ben came back into the room. The flu is nothing to play around with, you're both going to get worse before you get better and your dad needs rest.”

Ben began to protest as Sam sternly admonished, “He won’t be able to take care of both of you when he can’t even get around on his own.”

“But I could just stay ho…”

“Benjamin, no! That’s the end of it.”

“Why do you think YOU could stay and not me?!” Emma snapped.

“No one is going to stay with your dad! You’re both staying with me. No more arguments.” Sam gave them a look and they both closed their mouths.

“Can we just go now?”

“Yes, here, take the keys and head to the car. Don’t let me find you trying to sneak the other way to see your dad. He doesn’t need to be sick. I’m going to talk to the doc quick, get the doctor’s instructions and check out. I’ll be there shortly, no fighting, no one shot gun. Backseat both of you.”

Castiel smiled as he reminded, “Get plenty of fluids.” 

He went over care instructions a second time. “I’ve also included a third prescription of tamiflu for you. You can take it when you administer theirs or you can wait a day or two to see if you feel symptoms coming on. But please, if you feel the slightest hint of symptoms, take the pill. The sooner you take it, the less severe it will be.”

“Thanks, doc. Sorry about the bickering.”

“It shows me what I have in store when mine reach that age. Though they get along well enough, I’m sure they’ll devolve into that as all teens do. It’s just a part of learning to find yourself and break away from being a child.”

“I understand that the converted barn House I’m living in now is adjacent to your brother’s property? I can go check on him tomorrow, if need be. He is, after all, my very first patient here in town.”

Sam nodded. “Yes, your place is actually on his property. It was an old barn from another farm that ran alongside my brother’s land. He jumped at the opportunity when the family decided to sell it after their grandfather passed. They all lived in the city and were happy to keep the land in the hands of a local. Dean moved the small old farmhouse and tied it onto his. Now he’s got a really nice-sized place with character and history. It's a really nice place.” Sam looked a bit wistful. “I’m not sure how he’d feel about it, but I sure would rest easier and have less on my plate knowing you’ve checked on him.”

“Good then, I’ll just need an address or directions.” Castiel was not really experienced with small town doctor etiquette and had never really done a house call before of the country variety, but he knew the family seemed to be in a tight spot and sensed there was more to the story than he could see. Even though he seemed to be a sore spot for Dean Winchester, he’d try to help the family out. Besides, how often do twins get to be neighborhood with another set of twins. Maybe, their children might become friends.

Castiel peered closely at the X-rays before him. He let out his breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank goodness.” He muttered to himself. He stood, stretching. At least he wouldn’t have to reset the leg. 

Even though lunch was on time, making it only three hours since the late breakfast, Dean couldn’t believe how ravenous he was. He really didn’t think he would be, but as soon as he smelled the food, he couldn’t wait to dig in, He just finished his second forkful when Dr. NoWay walked in. 

Dean scowled. He didn’t know what it was, but this guy just rubbed him the wrong way. Somehow, he just felt on edge every time the doctor made an appearance.

“I hope you’re not coming in to tell me I’m stuck in this, this…place another day.” Dean almost pouted as he dropped his fork with a clatter.

Castiel’s “Good-News-Smile“ faded as he walked in and saw Dean’s sour expression. 

“No,” Castiel recovered his Good-News-Smile. “I actually come bearing news that I hope will lift your spirits somewhat.”

Dean did not return the smile, but merely looked at the doctor with interested skepticism. “Oh, yeah? What’s that? My leg isn’t really broken and you’re confessing to keeping me here just to make a few extra bucks off of a broke family man?”

Castiel closed his eyes in a roll. His smile faded. Exasperated he looked skyward and said a silent “please,” resolving to not let his patient’s mood spoil his day. He took a deep breath to brace for more unwarranted anger. Castiel knew breaking one’s leg was no picnic, so he’d do his best to be the understanding, placating physician, but definitely not the whipping boy.

“I've come to let you know that I’ve gone over the X-rays you had this morning while I was in my scheduled appointments. Luckily, you did no further damage to yourself when you fell to the floor.” Castiel broke out his Good-News-Smile again. “Therefore, I have informed the desk to begin your discharge process immediately following your physical therapy consultation which I have scheduled you for following your lunch.”

Dean snarled. “What? What physical therapy? Why do I need physical therapy if I’m not supposed to walk right now?”

Castiel’s smile disappeared. He really could not win with this patient. He wondered if Dean Winchester was always in sour moods, perhaps the most obstinate, petulant man in the entire town or possibly that he'd ever met. 

“I’m sorry. As you had been given a sedative yesterday, you may have forgotten what I had explained regarding a quick physical therapy session to learn proper ways to use your crutches, hold your leg and personal hygiene while you have the long cast. It should take no more than thirty minutes/ if you just go in with an open mind, listen to the therapist and follow instructions properly, I’m sure you’d be able to cut at least fifteen minutes from that. At any rate, I told the therapist to have a bit of leeway with you since you are such a contrary patient who is at odds with the care we are providing you.”

Annoyed at the characterization, Dean looked up. He saw that the doctor looked weary and no longer had a smile. The blue eyes had darkened and lost their light. Dean suddenly felt guilty. He just stared at Castiel wishing the sparkling glints would return to the cerulean depths. Why, he didn't know, but he did know he made them leave and those eyes should always have that quality.

“… eduled your follow-up appointment in five weeks. If you're doing well, we can possibly fit you with the short soft boot at that time. ONLY if you're coming along though. So please, Mr. Winchester, follow my orders.”

Castiel tilted his head at Dean with a curious squint. What was going on in that exasperating man’s head now? Why was he just staring through him like that? He had not been given any other sedatives. His patient seemed uncharacteristically quiet and forlorn. Befuddled, Castiel felt bad for feeling snappy towards his patient.

“I understand your home is not very far from the barn you so kindly have put me up in. I would like to come by tomorrow to see how you are getting along. Not an official house call, but I feel a bit responsible for this mishap that befell you. However, As you have made obvious that you have a dislike towards me, I certainly would not want to cause you undue stress if you would prefer me not to go.”

Dean blinked. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring. He missed half of what the doctors said. He really needed to get a grip. He needed to get laid. He needed to get away from the hospital and this annoying doctor and his ungodly blue eyes.

“Yeah, that’s fine. You can go. I have no problem with that.” He just wanted to get home and get away from Dr. NoWay.

“Your brother Adam asked me to let you know that he is making arrangements for you to get home after your physical therapy consultation. Please take care.” Castiel headed towards the door. 

“Yeah, thanks, Doc,” Dean said flatly.

“I’ll see you sometime late tomorrow afternoon then.” Castiel gave Dean his It’s-Been-Nice-Treating-You-Smile and left the room.

“Wha–?” Dean felt like he’d been slapped. What was the doctor telling him while he wasn’t paying attention? “Jeez, did I not tell the doc not to come over? What did I say? What did I agree to? I am never looking at that man’s eyes again? Really man!”

Dean picked up his fork again and shoveled his lukewarm food into his mouth, barely chewing it before swallowing. He was so irritated, he didn’t even taste what he was eating.


	3. Sweet Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Vomit and Diarrhea.

**Friday. November 6th, 2020**

  
Downtown Cottonwood Falls was the quintessential picturesque small town. Broadway, the town’s “Main Street” had a typical small town plan. Quaint storefronts that seemed right out of the1920s and 1930s lined both sides of the street. One end of the street terminated in a “T” where the Chase County Courthouse, a stately French Renaissance beauty, stood sentinel over the town. A replacement for the 1859 log cabin that housed the first courthouse, the 1873 three story grande dame was built of local limestone, featured a cameo window set in a brilliant red Mansard roof with magnificent lacy iron cresting and topped by a two story clock tower. The building, famed as the oldest Kansas courthouse still in use, also attracted many tourists because of it’s beautiful architecture. 

Castiel drove down the brick-paved street and pulled into one of the angled parking spots in front of Gabriel’s Sweet Spot. The store was nestled between a day spa and an art gallery. Two storefronts away was a combination restaurant and wine bar. Across the street was the local Chamber of Commerce, the town’s real estate agency, and the only gas station was situated at an angle on the corner nearest the courthouse. At the opposite end of the two block downtown area, were the Chase County Historical Society and Museum, several antique stores, the Chase County Farm Bureau, two banks, the County Farm Agent, and a hotel and its restaurant. 

Castiel could see Samandriel at the counter. There was one customer, a very attractive, light brunette haired, hipster-type man about his own age, filling a deep red box with very explicitly shaped candies beneath a sign exclaiming HARD Candy. Castiel gave a quick nod and looked away when they turned to see him enter. He felt slightly uncomfortable seeing people buying sexual items where everyone could watch. He wasn’t sure if it was just some innate prudishness on his part or that he had secret parts of himself that he never really acknowledged or acted on in the real world. 

He often thought he’d like to be more openly uninhibited, but after his wife, Meg, died following the harrowing delivery of the twins, Castiel’s main focus had been the children. He’d had random one night stands here and there over the years, but only once with any woman that really interested him and turned into something more. He’d been with business professionals, doctors, nurses, school teachers, a gymnast, a few artists, and musicians as well as more ‘fringe society’ types. None really satisfied him in more than a sexual way. He always left feeling a bigger hole missing than when they started.

Several times a year he and his old school friend, Hannah, would meet up and it more often than not led to an overnight tryst, yet it always left Castiel feeling a bit empty and more alone than before. He’d always cherish and remain friends with Hannah, but the last time they hooked up, he told her he just couldn’t do it anymore. She was quite understanding and told him she’d always be there for him, friend, lover or just to lend an ear. She told him to give himself time, and eventually he’d “find the person of his dreams and like a guiding star, he’d be drawn to find them, and peace.” He thought about her words randomly in the months after she uttered them, but only wondered now at her choice of ‘person’ and ‘them,’ instead of ‘woman’ and ‘her.’

The few women that gave him the most pleasure and a slight sense of contentment seemed to be the ones that pushed his limits and scared him a bit. But it was the only thing that made him actually feel almost alive in years, so much so that he eventually had a relationship for a short, and mostly secret, 11 months with a much younger contortionist/body piercing, suspension performer, stage named Smash, though her real name was Lady Alice Maria Elisabetta. Castiel thought with a name like that, her social climber parents must have had extraordinarily higher hopes pinned on their daughter, and he understood her rebelliousness at moving in the complete opposite direction. But Castiel always just called her Betta.

His flamboyantly free, sexuallly open-for-anything, fast-living cousin, Balthazar had introduced them almost three years ago when Castiel was in the middle of what he referred to now as his Thrill-Crazed Days. As always, most of his family was very supportive of him going out and trying to find a bit of happiness for himself, so they were thrilled to have the delight of taking turns having their precious niece and nephew over for “mini-vacations” often during that period. The children were all too happy to have a bit of distance from their father, who they felt had become increasingly overly protective as well as a bit short-tempered.

Castiel and Betta quickly fell into their relationship, he chasing edgy, scary thrills to not feel dead inside over the guilt he felt for Meg dying delivering children he wanted and she did not, and Betta finding anything Establishment, and delightfully corrupting it to rebellious anarchy. She was everything he needed and wanted at that point and Balthazar encouraged them at every turn. Betta brought him sexual freedom he never would’ve known without her: multiple lovers, sexual and libido enhancing drugs, toys, sex swings and sex chairs, BDSM, rope tying, piercings and even body suspension, but the thing that was his biggest hurdle was anal play, and eventually pegging. It wasn’t those alone, but that eventually she brought her performance partner, a ruggedly handsome young man, to their bed when Castiel was already questioning where their secret relationship could go, what exactly he was doing, and what he ultimately wanted. He had begun realizing, like an addict, he was no longer satisfied and was chasing bigger and bigger thrills that he found still left him empty.

Betta was just a tiny slip of a thing, almost sixteen years his junior, with dark flowing hair and golden-brown eyes. She had few visible piercings or tattoos noticeable when she was fully clothed, and looking at her, one would be hard-pressed to imagine her nature or the extent of her passion for the extreme. It was never love between them, but rather a mutual need for some unnamed thing they found inside each other unique to that space in time.

Castiel remembered the orange glow of the last rays of the mid-summer sun slanting through the window and he, kneeling shirtless in his boxer briefs in the middle of Betta’s large bed, drunk on wine and nearly high as a kite. He’d been bent, kissing and sucking Betta’s very small, rather flat breasts that he couldn’t get enough of. He loved the feel of her tiny, but muscular frame under his large hands. He liked the control and power he felt when holding her up by just his two hands against her lithe torso. Her body was so small and his fingers long enough, that he could almost span his two hands fingertips to thumbtips around her rib cage. He looked up to see her head tilted back as the young man kissed Betta’s perpetually bright red lips, his hands entangled in her tumbling tresses. Only, he found that he was not interested in looking at Betta, as he usually was when they had other women with them. No, he found his gaze tracing the angles and planes of her performance partner, whose stage name was Grab. Cas had only learned that evening that his given name was André.

Castiel realized the more he watched André working his mouth over Betta’s lips and tongue, the more vigorously he himself, suckled her breasts, and found his breath and heart racing. He had thoughts of running his fingers through André’s short unkempt dark hair. He let a small laugh escape his lips as he thought how he wanted to grab Grab’s hair, and pull his lips down on his own. And then, as if the man read his mind, André pulled his mouth off of Betta’s and trailed kisses down her neck towards her breast as Castiel stopped his own motions. André turned his dark gaze to Castiel’s lips, then his eyes, asking silent permission. Castiel gave the slightest of nods and before he could raise another thought in his mind, the young man’s mouth was on his. Castiel felt Betta slowly slip out of his grasp and felt her slip around to his back, tracing kisses across the freshly healing, but still tender, scarification tattoo he’d gotten a short four months before. 

Castiel had been to more than a enough of Smash and Grab’s performances to know and understand the technical and mechanical aspects of body suspension. And both Betta and André explained the endorphin rush and the feeling of peace, stillness, and the calm of being in touch with the Universal Soul enough times that Castiel finally asked that he be allowed to experience it as well. He opted for the Angel Suspension position because he thought he’d rather be upright for it, as well as knowing that position allowed for a more widespread dispersion of flesh to hang by, which alleviated some of his secret fears of his flesh tearing off his back as he hung. 

When it was all said and done, he found that it had been one of the most profoundly erotic, peaceful and enlightening moments of his life...and he never wanted to do it again. But he always wanted to remember it. He waited until after he healed, and made an appointment with Betta’s tattooist who specialized in beautifully intricate scarification work. He asked that the suspension marks be followed, but for nothing too elaborate or overwhelmingly corny. He just desired the reminder of the ritual: simply and respectfully. He was still slightly tender now, but the work was simple, intricate, elegant and exactly what he wanted.

And now that still-tender feeling had tranformed into a very erotically charging touch. Every so often Betta pushed the tender feel to light pain, but it was a pleasurable pain, and Castiel fell to kissing the wildly alluring André for all his worth. He ran his fingers through that short dark hair, felt the hard planes and musculature of the man as André clutched a fistful of Castiel’s tousled locks tilting his head back further while pulling him harder into his embrace. Castiel felt a wanton need in him that he had never thought he’d actually experience fully, and yet, here he was, in the arms of a man, and his girlfriend.

But Betta had slipped away off of the bed at some point, and in a far off corner of his mind he heard the snapping of her old 35mm film camera and the Click. Click. Snap! of her advancing the film. He didn’t care. She had asked in the beginning of their relationship if he would ever have a problem being a subject of her art or having her images of him eventually being shown in a gallery or bought and sold on the open market. In the heady daring of his first weeks with her, he quickly said that he had no problems with it, and it was he who brought her copies of model release forms to protect her. He gladly signed the first, and made her get others she photographed to sign as well. She was always snapping pictures of him, of them together and of him surrounded by the bodies of so many of the other women she always seemed to have in her bed, that it was difficult to tell where one’s limbs ended and another’s began. Some were more risqué photographs than others, snapped during rope play, foreplay and intercourse, and many in the languorous aftermath their drunken, wine and drug-fueled orgies. She had even given him his own vintage 35mm film camera and he found he enjoyed the quiet peace of afternoons in the park with the children, taking black and whites of them at play, plucking flowers or gazing at the clouds.

His mind left the thoughts of the afternoons in the park, the children, and the click of the camera the instant he felt André’s other hand slide down his hips and slip under his waistband. Andre looked him in the eyes and sought silent permission to continue. Castiel threw himself into exploring this new feeling and the ecstasy of allowing himself to be this free, and just lifted his chin, lips parted, wanting to kiss André again in answer. Andé lightly slid his hand down Castiel’s burgeoning erection to clasp him firmly. Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. His own hand roved over the firm, soft flesh of André’s abdomen and finally lower until he felt brave and free enough to reach for the cock that was pressed between them. Castiel felt tears come to his eyes and slip down his cheek as he released a breath he felt he’d been holding in since the dawn of time. For the first time in forever, he thought could almost feel again. He was at the precipice of humanity again.

Castiel’s phone rang. He ignored it in his ardor and excruciating need for completion. He wanted, he needed this moment to reach its inevitable conclusion. The marvel of finally touching another man’s erect cock, silky smooth and so hard, gave Castiel, even in his drunken state, a clarity he’d never had before. He became desperate as his phone rang again and again, until he finally broke from the spell and answered it angrily. It was his sister Anna, Claire had fallen during a trick gone wrong at the skateboard park and may have broken a couple of fingers. She wanted her dad.

Castiel needed leave. Now. He made his way to the hospital in a cab. He rushed in to see Claire. Thankfully, there were no breaks, but three dislocated fingers. They slept at Anna’s that night, because he knew he was in no shape to drive home. He woke early to go pick up his car from Betta’s, but found it sitting on the curb with a note from Andre.

Castiel,

Thank you for allowing me to be a small rung on the ladder of your ascension to your true self. I don’t need to see those wings to know that you are an Angel. 

André

  
  
  
  


After that, Fate seemed to conspire against him, his time with Betta, and any hopes he had for more sexual exploration with André. Though they had quite a few more months together, their time always seemed to be cut short, by one thing or another. The last time he saw André and Betta together, they had planned a full night get-together with just the three of them. First, they went out to dinner, then to a late opening at an art gallery that featured some of Betta’s prints of her early suspension photographs, and they were to end the evening with a special night for Castiel, who had made the decision to have Betta and Andre pierce his nipples. Betta was to pierce his right one and André his left. Unexpectedly, and to his utter delight, Betta bent down and kissed him as André slid the long needle through. It was an experience he’d never forget, and he couldn’t wait to have André do the same as Betta pierced his left nipple. But what he really was looking forward to was the unspoken possibilities that were to come in Betta’s bed with the three of them that night. He never got that chance and never got his left nipple pierced.

Once again the ringing of his phone put a halt to his wants that night. This time it was a gas line explosion incident downtown and all hands were needed at the hospital. Following that, was a winter flu season that kept Castiel occupied for several months. Finally, André got called to France where his parents were renovating a chateau they had bought just outside of Paris. His father had been working to prop up sagging roof timbers in the attic when the entire floor below their feet collapsed with him and two workers falling twenty feet to the floor below. His father had two broken hips and one broken leg. André was needed there to help prevent his parents from losing everything. Betta decided to go with him to experience more of the fringe society there where she had first learned about body suspension on her high school’s senior class trip.

Castiel had little time to think about if he actually missed her or just the change from the monotony of his daily life schedule. The hospital underwent a corporate exchange shortly thereafter, resulting in mass changes in staffing, policy changes, light renovations, and most of all, working with his brother, Michael, who was one of the upper hospital administrators of the new parent corporation.

All the upheaval kept him busy the last year or so, until Betta came back, and was the darling of the city’s art world with a one woman show at the city’s top gallery and soon a big show in New York and Chicago. Castiel went to her local opening. Besides being glad to see her doing well, he felt not much else, but a fond remembrance. André was there with a lover he met in France, and Castiel felt nothing. No sadness, loss, longing or remorse. They passed a wonderful evening looking at Betta’s grand scale photographs. She had definitely evolved as a photographer. Her works included not only newer suspensions, but beautiful portraits of piercings, more erotic works featuring multiple individuals in various stages of sexual intimacy, and bondage photographs involving the intricate erotic knot-tying art of kinbaku and shibari.

Castiel wandered, gazing with the eye of observer as well as participant in her work. He found that many of her works were from the time they spent together and saw himself, as well as more than a few familiar faces and bodies entwined together very intimately in the larger than life-sized photographs. At first it startled him, but eventually he became fascinated, and even proud and honored to have been a muse for her. As he was working his way around the gallery, stopping for different lengths of time before each over-sized photograph, he became aware of whispers that eventually seemed to become a murmuring buzz. He glanced up to see that several people in the next section of the gallery, in a group surrounding a noticeably larger photograph, had been nodding and gesturing towards him. Finally, one particularly brazen, pinched-faced man walked up to him with his hand out for a handshake.

“I must say it is a pleasure to meet you!” The man vigorously shook Castiel’s hand, then placed his other hand over it and hung on tightly.

“That’s enough, Ezra! Castiel doesn’t need you pawing at him.” André pushed the smaller man’s arm down while Castiel disentangled his hand from his grip.

“I just wanted to say congratulations on being the star of the show. I have some friends you simply must meet,” said Pinched-Face-Man, looking around for anyone he might know as he began to reach for Castiel’s arm again.

“Ezra—” André began as Castiel spoke at the same time.

“I appreciate your admiration, but the kudos should all go to Bett—the artist. We were merely the models. Now if you’ll excuse us, my friends and I have a lot of catching up to during their short week in town before they must leave for New York, so thank you again, but please let us have some private time together.”

“Oh, yes. I see. I’m so sorry. Please have a nice night and maybe we can get together another time.” Ezra prodded, “Mayhaps we can exchange numbers?”

“No, I’m sorry, I’m not interested,” Castiel stated softly, trying to be kind.

“But I thought…” Ezra tried again, stepping extremely close and grabbing hold of Castiel’s bicep.

Castiel’s patience had worn thin. He shrugged his arm hard as his blue eyes turned dark. “I said ‘No!’ Now leave us!”

“No one talks to me like that!” Ezra practically fell backwards from the force of Castiel’s arm shrug, and stormed off.

“ Every one talks to him like that,” laughed André.

Castiel, André and his Frenchman, Remy, turned toward the next section of the gallery where Ezra had come from, and where the other patrons were still whispering and gawking.

Castiel’s breath caught in his chest as André clutched his arm.

“I saw the proofs of most of what is in the show, and some of the completed large scale prints, but Alice… Betta, wouldn’t let me see these. She said they were for us to experience large-scale, in the gallery, like everyone else.” André whispered into Castiel’s ear.

Castiel and André walked up, arm and arm, Remy following behind.

They slowly approached the first photograph of this series.

It was labeled ‘Revelation.’

They were kneeling on Betta’s massive bed. It was at a low angle, shooting up towards André’s face as the slightly taller man gazed down at Castiel, his hands buried deep in the dark unruly locks spiking out in every direction. Castiel was facing away from the camera, back all in shadows, hands gently, yet tentatively grasping Andrés elbows. The remembered late afternoon summer sun illuminating only André’s eyes.

Castiel squinted a bit and then turned, wide-eyed, to look at André.

André’s cheeks colored. “You were to be my first virgin, Castiel. I wanted it… I wanted you very much.” He tenderly squeezed Castiel’s hand that was resting on his arm.

“I see that now. I can see that here. I never knew then. I never even thought about it.” 

They stood gazing silently for a minute before moving to the next one. The now-silent, and growing audience followed.

This one was labeled ‘Ascension.’

It was a side shot. The length of their bodies pressed against each other tightly. André with right hand still embedded in Castiel’s hair, pulling his head closer as they kissed, left arm around Castiel’s back at the waist. Castiel’s hands had left André’s arms and were now around his back, hands just below shoulders, pulling André into the kiss. The reflected ambient light gave a silken glow to the muscular lines of their torsos creating a deep black line where their bodies met. The glow of the sunlight through the window created a fiery halo behind both of their heads leaving the rest of the room in darkness.

They stood silent. Just soaking it in.

By some unspoken agreement, they moved to the next one.

So that’s what Betta was doing to his back when he thought she was kissing, nibbling and pinching. Castiel looked at André with a slightly bemused and accusatory expression. André just shrugged. 

“That’s no answer,” he laughed.

“What can I say? Your beauty distracted me.” André gave Castiel a quick peck on the cheek. The crowd clapped and wolf whistled.

Castiel, blushed and turned back to the photograph. 

This one was labeled’Annunciation.’

It was Castiel’s back to the window and his head was thrown back. André’s face was buried in his neck, except one eye glistening from the sun as he gazed at the camera lens over Castiel’s shoulder. The image was taken from the perspective of someone watching through the curtains and the sunlight sparkled and glinted off of small rhinestones accenting the lines of Castiel’s Angel wing scarification.

They headed towards the next one that seemed to be the featured star of this part of the show. It was much larger, placed prominently at the center of the room. A large group still stood around it that slowly and reluctantly made way for the three men.

They took two steps and involuntarily stopped and squeezed their hands tighter together. André let out an audible gasp. Castiel’s mouth went dry and he simultaneously wanted to exploded into dust and weep at the same time. Tears blurred Castiel’s vision as he stared at the image that was himself, yet at the same time, someone once again so foreign to himself. He barely remembered being able to feel the feeling that was evident on the face of the creature in the photograph. He had once again resigned himself to just being his previous incarnation.

This one was labeled, ‘Epiphany.’ 

Betta must have stood on the bed with them or a chair near by or something. Castiel couldn’t figure out how she got the angle.

André’s grip in Castiel’s hair was tighter. Instead of pulling Castiel closer, he was pulling Castiel’s head backwards, lifting his face fully skyward. His boxer briefs had been pulled down, which Castiel did not even remember happening. André’s left hand was clasped firmly around Castiel’s fully erect cock. The head of which was just showing above the partially pulled down foreskin. A glistening star of pre-cum shone on the tip. Castiel’s right hand was wrapped around André‘s cock, thumb resting on the tip. Somehow, because of the way André was pulling down and back on Castiel’s head, his body had twisted slightly so the camera lens picked up the rhinestones refracting the sunlight on his wing pattern. The reflection shot back and up towards the window in a bright blur that seemed to create wings of light coming from Castiel’s back.

But it was the expression on Castiel’s face that was the main focus of this photograph. His eyes and face practically glowed beatifically as he gazed up in awe, revelation and near ecstasy. His full lips were slightly opened and André was staring down at him with a equally awed countenance.

“You truly are magnificent.” Remy leaned forward to whisper.

Castiel was pulled out of his reverie. He felt as if he were having an out of body experience.

André squeezed his hand and steered him towards the next one.

This one was labeled ‘Falling.’

This one was from slightly above again, but from the opposite side. The room behind them was lit by the ambient glow of the almost completely set sun. Andre’s head was bent to Castiel’s neck, like he had been kissing there, but had turn his head outward. His expression was barely visible, but you could just tell his eyes were closed and not in a sensual manner. Castiel’s head was raised, fully aware of his surroundings, staring off into some secret distance only he see over Andre’s shoulder. His eyes had changed to dark pools glinting with anger.

  
  
  
  


Castiel felt the eyes of the crowd upon him.

“Let’s go,” he said simply and they moved towards the next one.

This one was labeled ‘Resignation.’

André was sitting alone in the middle of the bed in a dark silhouette. Castiel had moved some distance away towards the edge of the bed, but facing the camera at an angle. He was sitting on his heels with both knees bent down on the bed, head slightly downturned, shoulders slumped, hands palms up resting on his knees. His eyes were dark, but a fear and sadness could be seen.

There was nothing really to say. His daughter needed him and she and her brother were and still are his world. No thrills could compete.

André patted his arm and gave his waist a squeeze of understanding.

They came to the final one.

This one was labeled ‘Renunciation.’

It was the empty unmade bed, covers and sheets in rumpled disarray, sunset complete. The room was lit only by streetlights or moonlight pouring in from the window and bright pinpoints of light reflected off the fallen rhinestones, now scattered across the empty expanse.

  
  
  
  


Castiel thought it a fitting tale. It left him feeling melancholy, yet resigned to live his life never fully realized.

“Don’t my friend,“ André whispered. “When least you look for it, it will find you. As I said before, you really are an Angel after all. Don’t let anyone steal your happiness, not even yourself.”

Castiel stayed and mingled with the fawning gallery patrons and his old friends for a short time afterwards, but he had to get back to the children that night and soon took his leave. The following few weeks he kept his eye open in art reviews online, in newspapers and magazines. He saw several articles in national magazines and even one of his favorite podcasts featured the showing at the gallery. Then, one day he received a request for an interview with Naomi, the head of the hospital.

More than a few corporate executives had seen or got wind of Castiel’s fame as a “porn model” as Naomi put it. And one of the top donors, whose son had attended the opening, was particularly disgusted by the blatantly graphic and immoral pornography that Castiel, a ranking physician of their corporation, had allowed himself to participate in, and thereby through association, allowing the hospital and corporation to participate in by proxy. The only reason they were allowing him to continue working for them was that he was an excellent physician with nothing but glowing reviews. However, if and until the “scandal” died down enough that it was off the radar off their top donors, Castiel would be moved to a small town hospital their corporation just picked up the option on. He had a firm suspicion about who this “top donor’s” son was, Ezra, and he didn’t think the public rejection and humiliation Castiel had subjected the tiny man to would “die down” anytime in the near future. And that is how Castiel, and his loving, close brother, Gabriel who followed him for moral support, ended up in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas.

  
  
  
  


“Good afternoon, Dr. Novak.” Samandriel, the very youthful, slender man greeted him with a smile. He looked all of sixteen, but Castiel had met him before and knew he was twenty-two.

“I should’ve parked around back,” Cas muttered to himself as he approached the counter, smiling back. 

“And good evening to you, Samandriel,” Castiel beamed. He couldn’t help but smile. The three or four times he had encountered the young man, he was always kind, upbeat, eager to help and seemed to actually be interested in every word spoken to him. Samandriel seemed to be the most genuinely sweetest person he’d ever come across. “How are you this fine day?”

“Oh, I’m doing great, sir, really great.” The blue eyes sparkled giving a more classic All-American feel to his boyish, Tom Cruise good looks. “Mr. Novak is next door looking at the newly vacant florist shop.” Samandriel leaned in close and whispered, “he’s thinking about scooping it up to add a more family-oriented ice cream parlor and bakery next door.”

“That’s right, bro!” boomed Gabriel, who’d walked up unnoticed behind Castiel. “One kitchen, twice the product, twice the customers.”

“Thinking of expanding so soon before you’ve actually even hard opened this one?” Castiel asked with a raised brow.

“Yes! Opportunity is best SNATCHed as it RISES!” Gabriel winked ostentatiously, laughing. “Oh, that reminds me, I just got the postcards and invites out for our HARD Opening.” He walked back behind the counter, giving a nod for Cas to follow him.

Moving his eyebrows up and down suggestively Gabriel asked, “Mmmaybe you can SLIDE some of these IN on various counters and desks around the hospital. Give them out with prescriptions?” He smiled and fluttered his lashes coquettishly. 

Castiel gasped and opened his eyes wide with indignation.” I will most certainly do no such thing!” He huffed. “I am bound by cert—”

“Relax, Cassie. You know I’m just joshin’ you. Jeez, YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN SO EASY!” Gabriel laughed loudly, raising his voice resoundingly and looking over Castiel’s shoulder. “But seriously, bro, I could use some help. Sammy! Come to the back with me, a minute. Cassie, help me out and watch the shop for a sec, ‘kay? Thanks!” Gabriel practically dragged Samandriel to the kitchen.

Castiel nervously turned around towards the store. There was still just the one attractive hipster gent now perusing the cold cases. Cas looked back towards the kitchen, then to the customer.

“Are you interested in some gelato, ice cream or some cream pie?” Castiel offered with his best “Kind-Physician-of-Authority-Smile.” He had no problem dealing with patients, so attending to the needs of customers must not be too much different, he thought. Hell, he was even able to placate the very difficult Dean Winchester on at least one occasion. 

The customer lifted his face towards Castiel with a slightly bemused, devilish smirk as he stepped towards the counter.

“Oh, I am definitely up for some cream pie, but I’m not sure I’d be able to get the flavor I would like.” The man leaned in closer to Castiel and looked him steadily in the eye. 

Castiel looked towards the pie case and began to protest, “Oh, my brother, Gabriel, has almost every flavor of cream pie imaginable, and if you don’t see what you want on the menu or in the case, I’m sure he could customize a pie to fit your needs.”

Castiel could swear that he heard a low snort and soft giggling from the kitchen.

He looked back at the handsome customer with his dark hair, who was gazing at him intently. Castiel noticed the man’s full, dark pink lips and then followed his nose upward to see light green eyes fixed on him. Unbidden, his mind thought, ‘they’re pretty, but I much prefer the eyes of Dean Winchester.’

Suddenly, confused by his own thoughts, Castiel knitted his brows together tilting his head in an effort to dump the thought out of his mind. Before he could say anything, the customer just straightened up and smiled, “Thank you, but I’ll just take these. Maybe if I come back through again one day, I might try for more,” he said with a wink.

Castiel felt terrible, but quickly recovered. “Yes. Okay then,” he returned the smile, “ I’ll just have these rung up for you and…”

“I’ll finish up your transaction, sir.” Samandriel said bursting out of the kitchen door. 

“Thank you.” Castiel smiled in relief at Samandriel’s rescue of him. “And we hope you do return one day soon, sir. Have a good evening.” Castiel saw the man’s smile return full-force, nodded at the handsome customer one last time, and turned to disappear through the kitchen door.

He immediately bumped into Gabriel who was still holding in laughter.

“Why do you always force me into untenable predicaments?” Annoyed,Castiel advanced on his much smaller older brother. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Don’t blame your pretty face, great physique and winning personality on me!” Gabriel put his hands up indefensive surrender, backing away. “Though I’d like to take full credit, I did have a hand in influencing you.”

“I’m sure any influence you provided would not be considered a virtue. By the way,” Castiel scowled and held up his red-stained palm, “I can attest that your experimental overly-pigmented cherry sauce, definitely leaves the flesh stained red wherever it touches, even when, uh, applied through textiles. And lasts, at least so far, through many multiple scrubbing and washings of the area as well as being a possibly seemingly permanent fabric dye.”

Gabriel grabbed his hand, laughing. “What did you do, use a paintbrush? You didn’t need to go that far with the testing.”

Castiel laughed back. “It’s is slightly amusing now. Then, not so funny.”

He quickly related the story of his exasperating patient, Dean Winchester, and the Pop Your Cherry-Vanilla Cream gelato with a Squirt of Jizt Cherry incident, including the embarrassing rubbing his “lap” into an erection.

Gabriel was laughing so hard, he ended up half-laying on the floor hanging onto an oven handle to hold himself from slipping completely to the prone position.

In the end, Castiel was bending over at the waist, holding his stomach to catch his own breath from laughing so hard. He wasn’t sure if it was because Gabriel’s reaction made it seem funnier now, if it was actually something to laugh at or if he just thought Gabriel rolling around in the floor of the kitchen was funny.

“Oh, Cassie, I love you. You never seem to realize that it’s your own obliviousness to your emotions that you keep in such a tight reign that is your downfall, and nothing that I do.” Gabriel looked over at Castiel who had sat down next to him, back against the oven. “I merely provide a catalyst to get you going, but you ignore that mirror in favor of your need to compartmentalize everything in life.”

“C’mon!” Gabriel stood, reaching out his hand to help Castiel up form the floor, “kids are probably on their 900th video game of the day.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I thought I asked you to limit their screen time?”

“I’m the F’Uncle. I gotta do it.” Gabriel whined. “Besides, I needed some way for them to burn off all those lollidicks and Penis Pops they ate.”

With that, Gabriel ran as fast as he could up to his attached over-store apartment, laughing all the way.

“More like ‘Funkle,” Castiel grumped.

“Quick, kids, hide the liquor!” Gabriel joked.

Castiel rounded the top of the stairs in time to see Claire and Jack pushing themselves away from the large kitchen table where trays of various bodypart-shaped cookies were lined up in trays. There were other trays filled with cellophane-wrapped cookies, and finally, boxes with wrapped cookies that now had labels attached with the shop logo, contents and nutrition information.

“Employing slave labor, I see.” Castiel bent over to hug Claire, who had wrapped her arms around her father’s waist. “What happened to keeping the inventory away from young eyes?”

He grabbed a pair of breast cookies as he laid a quick peck on Jack’s forehead, and then bit into the colorful confection.

“I hope you two didn’t eat too many of these. Or look at them!”

“Hey! No eating the inventory!” Claire snatched the cookie that Castiel had already bitten into.

“You're the only one eating the cookies here, bro.” Gabriel took the second cookie from Castiel, split it in half, gave Jack half, and popped the other half into his own mouth.

“We’re old enough. You forget that we’ll be fourteen at the end of May, dad! “ Jack smiled through his cookie-filled mouth.

“I still don’t think it’s an appropriate occupation for children.”

“Gotta learn this stuff somewhere, dad, otherwise, we’ll learn it wrong on the mean streets of Cottonwood Falls.” Claire complained sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Besides, adults sure can be gross.”

She licked half of the cookie breast lasciviously, then bit into it. 

“Alright, we need to head home. Go gather your things. School starts Monday for you two.”

“Ugh! I could go all life without starting a new school.” Claire stomped off to find her shoes. 

“I’m kind of excited,” Jack said, smiling. “I want to join the Future Farmers of America Club!”

Castiel and Gabriel glanced at each other with bemused parental admiration.

They said their goodbyes and exited through the back entrance. Castiel informed the children about the dog as they made their way down the back alley to walk around the end of the block to get back to his car at the front. He declined Gabriel’s offer to let them pass through the shop, even though there were no customers at the time. He didn’t think it would be a good look for him, the children or Gabriel, and with his luck, he’d probably be spotted by some corporate lackey or “top donor’s” son as they exited the adult sweet shop.

They drove through town for a quick tour to see what shops and restaurants were around, and to see what their new school looked like. Then, they took the road out of town that led to the former farm where the old converted limestone brick barn was located that they now called home. It was only a ten minute drive, but it was not unpleasant and the scenery was not just the usual vast prairie, as it appeared someone had a Christmas tree farm and there were fields full of tall stalks of corn and wheat.

The car followed a long curve in the road and eventually turned into a long drive, going over the horizontal pipes of a cattle guard, as they passed through an old wood-beam fence that had long ago lost its gate. The barn was supposedly one of the oldest barns in the area, and had begun life as a combination barn and farmhouse. The light limestone brick work was broken up with large, thick granite block lintels over each doorway and window opening and thinner granite sills were at the base of each door and window. Castiel had not paid much attention to the building when he first arrived, as it was already getting dark by the time he was able to bring himself to leave the hospital clinic. In the full light before the sun sunk below the horizon, he could now see the details and simplicity of the utilitarian architecture. 

Castiel pulled up on to the newer, large cement parking pad and eased the car under the spacious, covered carport.

As they began to get out, Castiel reminded them about how to approach the dog in order not to frighten it. He went in first, just to be on the safe side. Immediately the dog came running up, tongue out and tail wagging. He made sure they introduced themselves by presenting the backs of their hands before any attempt at petting and then aloud them to take the dog outside for a time. He had quickly drawn up some “Dog Found” flyers at the clinic and was going to see if the school and other community building had a bulletin board for such purposes. He really need to check to see what online community sources were available as well, but he’d just been so busy. He wasn’t actually scheduled to begin working until Monday, but he knew the town had severe need and couldn’t bring himself to be lax in that area, from the moment he’d walked in to get the house keys a day ago. 

  
  
  
  


The barn was two stories tall and had large, round timbers holding up a new dark gray-blue metal roof. There were workable shutters, also dark gray-blue metal, at each window and even the doors. The front door was painted a traditional bright red barn color as was the side kitchen door near the back of the building. One side of the building still had large wood plank sliding double barn doors that opened onto the sizable carport parking pad. The covered carport was an obvious new addition, but also featured the Sam dark gray-blue metal roof and large round timber support poles. The large parking pad continued further out to meet another large concrete pad. Castiel figured it was a requirement for farmers who always seemed to have multiple large vehicles and farm machinery. On the center of the metal roof, Castiel saw a small cupola with a weathervane that was topped by a decorative trumpeting Angel. Overall, he like the renovation job that his patient, Dean Winchester, had done. With a smile of satisfaction, he thought he could make a nice home here for himself and his twins. He was about to turn to see how the dog was getting along with the twins when he saw another thing about the old barn that he’d not noticed before. Approximately, every six to ten feet all the way around the building at the ceiling level of both the first and second floor, were golden iron stars with dark gray-blue iron square backers. The stars were actually giant nuts screwed onto some inner iron support ties.he’d seen them before. They were designed to offer extra support and stability for buildings, especially masonry and stone. He recalled they were called bolster braces or bolster bolts and used prominently in earthquake prone areas. Curious. His mind itched trying to remember the words Hannah had spoken to him years ago about guiding stars. He was too tired to remember now.

He turned to run out and tumble onto the grass where Claire, Jack and the dog were rolling around on the lawn. It was nice to be able to take a little time out to frolic with the children before they grew out of it. It was nice to just be.

  
  
  
  
  



	4. Dean Goes Home

Dean had brushed his teeth, fixed hair, and just started to pull his gown off when the nurse Zeke entered.

“Hiya, Zeke.” Dean smiled, his excitement at being released to go home palpable.

“I have all your completed paperwork for your discharge. I just need you to sign three things, and then I’ll assist you with putting on your street clothes.”

“Woohoo! I can't wait to get out of here!” Dean hooted. “I have to say, you were pretty much the best part of my stay here. Really.” He looked directly at Ezekiel. “Thank you, man, for taking care of me the way you did. Pulling me out of one of my panic anxiety attacks the way you did….Then, the...the…”

Dean was trying to find the words, but could not. What he wanted to say was something like, ‘thanks for saving my dignity when I peed all over myself and the floor,’ but he couldn’t get the words to pass his lips. He could feel the anxiety and accompanying shame rising as his cheeks flushed. He struggled to form the words again, because, dammit, a soldier, a man, should be able to speak a simple ‘thank you.’

“Say nothing more. It’s…” Zeke began when Dean interrupted him.

“No. I don't want to hear the usual it's all a part of your job. You went above and beyond for me, and I want...I need…. to...you” Dean ran his fingers through his hair and put his head down taking ragged breaths. “Damn. Dammit.” He whispered to himself.

His breaths came faster and more ragged. He rocked back and forth slightly as he tried to control his breathing and halt the coming panic he knew was inevitable.

“I just need Miracle. I just need my dog.” Dean rubbed his hands over his beard and face roughly, taking deep quick breaths. 

Ezekiel put down the bag of clothes Adam had told him he put in the room’s closet for Dean to wear home. He walked over to the bed and put his hand on Dean’s.

“Breathe. That’s it. Your brother told me you have a service dog.”

Dean’s breath came a bit faster and more desperate. “Yeah. I don’t know why…” he tried to take another deep breath, but failed. It was shallow and quick. “I don't know why that doctor wouldn’t let me have him in here. It’s just...it's wrong!” He sat forward trying to catch a breath.

“I swear…that Dr. NoWay rubs me…the…wrong…the wrong…way every…time I…I s-see him…”

Ezekiel leaned forward and gently, but firmly placed his open left palm on Dean’s chest. 

“Ok, sir. Let’s breathe. Shhhh. Shhh. It’s OK.” Ezekiel rubbed his right arm up and down making hushing sounds. while he pulsed his open palm slowly on Dean’s naked chest, in time to what should be Dean’s normal rate of breathing.

“Yes. Focus on the breaths. That’s all you need to think about right now. Breathe. Yes. Feel your lungs fill with the air. “ The nurse kept pulsing his palm on his patient’s chest, encouraging his breath to deepen and slow.

As Ezekiel sensed Dean relax, he spoke softly, “I was going to say it is part of my job, but more than that, it is part of humanity to ensure dignity for everyone, whether it is part of my job or not. And I’d say, ‘think nothing of it’, but I’d rather all men, all people thought of it, and returned the favor to everyone they meet who may or may not be struggling. We never know what another’s personal struggles are, and compassion, dignity, and humanity can be a rare and precious thing to one who is struggling.”

Ezekiel slowly removed his hand from Dean’s chest, smiling and nodding at the normal rise and fall as his breathing had returned to normal.

Dean looked up at this wonder-worker nurse and nodded.

“Thank you. I’ll try to remember that. Really, I will. As you’ve seen, I’m not always the best at letting things go or expressing myself, but maybe thinking of that, reminding myself how you’ve helped me, will help me change that. So…t-thank you.”

Ezekiel pulled out the t-shirt and stretchy, slightly baggy flannel casual pajama pants. They were a size or two bigger than his normal size, Dean observed. They must be a pair of Sam’s. Well, at least they’d fit over the cast so he could get home in actual clothing instead of with his ass hanging out of a backless hospital gown since they’d had to cut his jeans off him when they brought him in.

Benny and Lee walked in just as Ezekiel finished his task.

“Hey Cher, are you ready to go back home?” Benny asked him as he patted Dean’s leg just above the cast. He had a smile with a particular glint in his sparkling blue eyes. Dean noticed Lee did, too, as he walked to the far side of the bed, passing the nurse headed towards the door.

“I’ll return momentarily with your wheelchair,” he said as he pulled the door closed.

“You do not know how ready I am.” Dean said. 

Dean noticed Lee and Benny traded a few glances between each other.

“Alright, let me make sure we have all your things together,” Lee turned to start looking through the closet and drawers.

“Wow, they should did a number on your jeans,” he said holding up the cut up pants. “Why’d they even save these?”

“I don’t know, but check my pockets, then you can toss them in the garbage.”

Lee dug through the pockets and came out with Dean’s wallet, $1.73 in loose change, a pack of gum with three pieces left, two receipts from the hardware store and one from the sandwich shop, Dean’s pocket knife, and an extra box of brads for the nail gun. He laid it all out on the bed next to Dean.

Dean looked at it all, tossed the receipts, popped a piece of gum in his mouth and offered the others to his friends. He checked the flannel pants for pockets, shoved everything in the two spacious front pockets and tossed Benny the nails, shrugging.

Ezekiel came back in, pushing a wheelchair, Adam following behind holding crutches.

“These came in for you from the medical equipment rental store this afternoon,” Adam grimaced waiting for his brother’s inevitable angry rant.

“Ugghh.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Really?”

“Well, first of all, yes, hospital policy that all patients be wheeled out to meet a waiting vehicle upon discharge. Second, I’d love a picture of you getting yourself up your front stairs and inside by yourself, on crutches, in a long cast where you can’t bend your knee.” Adam grinned, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “I think you might be back here tonight getting another cast, either on your other leg or on an arm or hip. Then you’d be in here a lot longer than you have been already.”

Dean looked daggers at his brother. Then, over Adam’s shoulders, he saw Dr. NoWay engrossed in some files, walking past in the hall outside.

“Alright, then,” he smiled, sliding toward the edge of the bed, “let’s get this show on the road! I can’t wait to get home and see all my babies!”

Astonished at Dean’s sudden change of heart, Benny raised his eyebrows, then nodded and winked at Lee and Adam. Dean noticed the wink, but said nothing. His friends and his brother were planning something, but he didn’t know what.

Adam and Ezekiel moved forward, refreshing his memory of the technique he had just learned in physical therapy for the best way to move from the bed to the wheelchair. Once he was settled in and the room checked for belongings, they headed to the exit. Lee ran ahead to grab the pickup truck. It was a crew cab that had four full doors and a full front and back seat. He had pulled the front seat all the way forward to allow plenty of legroom in the back for Dean.

“Alright, we’re going to help you stand, then you’ll turn to back yourself towards the cab, then back into the seat,” Ezekiel explained.

“C’mon, let’s get you into the truck.” Benny said and rolled the wheelchair close. 

Adam and Ezekiel assisted Dean out of the chair as Benny quickly pulled it out of the way. Before Dean could finish turning around to back himself into the truck, Benny and Lee got on either side, picked Dean up, and lifted him gently into the truck. 

“Well, that’ll work, too,” Ezekiel laughed.

Adam nodded and helped Lee fold the chair up and place it in the bed of the truck, and then Lee hopped in the front passenger seat as Benny made sure Dean was fully on the seat, strapped in and comfortable. 

“Alright, alright, Mother Hen.” Dean smiled fondly at Benny, his green eyes sparkling with tenderness for the way Benny treated him like precious cargo.

Then Dean noticed Dr. NoWay just inside the door, watching very intently, head tilted to the side, like he was trying to solve a difficult math problem. Dean unintentionally mirrored Castiel’s head tilt, and just returned his gaze, curious. Finally, Dean raised his hand to his temple in salute, as a way of saying ‘goodbye and thanks.’ 

The Doctor waved back. Benny got into the driver’s seat of the truck and Adam went up to the window. 

“Take care of yourself, Dean. I’ll check on you soon.” He said, then stepped back, waving goodbye as they drove off. Dean waved back to his youngest brother. 

Benny drove as carefully as he could to avoid the bumps and potholes on the road as they made their way to the farm.

There were a few brightly colored balloons attached to the mailbox on the fencepost at the opening of the driveway leading up to Dean’s farmhouse. Dean was bewildered at first, but that seemed like something Charlie would do. As soon as Benny pulled up to the house, Lee jumped out and reached into the bed of the truck to grab the wheelchair, while Benny opened Dean’s door and helped him ease towards the edge of the seat. Lee rolled the still-closed chair around to the top of the porch. Benny carried Dean out of the truck, bridal-style, and Dean wondered why they broke up. He’d always felt safe in his arms. Benny carefully lowered him into the now-open chair Lee had set up on the porch. The lights in the house were off. Benny opened the door and the two of them helped him inside. Lee turned on the light and suddenly he was startled by a loud and excited,

“WELCOME HOME DEAN!”

Dean smiled. So that was what his brother and friends were planning. A Welcome home party. All of his friends and family were there. Well, most of them anyway. Charlie, Kevin, Jo, Pamela, Ash, Ellen, Bobby. They each had brought a home-cooked dish for Dean and the children that would probably take care of their evening meals for at least a week or so. There were also various snacks and drinks that were laid out for those present while they had been waiting on Dean’s release from the hospital. 

“Wow! You guys didn’t have to do this,” Dean looked around at everyone and raised his arm to pat Pamela’s arm as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. 

“How long are you gonna have that peg leg?” Ash asked.

“Dr. NoWay says six weeks, at least,” Dean, punched the top edge of his cast, irritated.

“Dr. NoWay?” Ellen raised a skeptical brow.

“That’s the nick name he gave the new doc at the clinic.” Lee laughed. 

“Yeah, he’s annoying, has a strange bedside manner, and it’s like every time he came to see me, some other bad thing would happen.” Dean sulked. “I mean, the day he came into town, my bad luck seemed to start.”

“What’s that old saying…’me thinks he doth protest too much’ is all I’m hearing,” Benny scoffed.“Personally, I like the man. I like him a lot. I just might see if the Doc is attached to anyone or otherwise engaged.” Benny’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Oh, that’s the way it is now?” Dean almost pouted. “Really, Man? I don’t need you being involved with my doctor, neither for casual sex nor a serious relationship.”

“Brotha, you know I’ll always love you, but there’s not enough single people in this town for me to take anyone off the table just because they work in a profession where you MIGHT be their customer or patient.”

“Hell, there ain’t enough people in the four _nearest_ towns to take anyone off the table,” Lee proclaimed.

Everyone laughed.

“I might have to go check this doctor out myself,” Pamela remarked with a feral look in her eyes. “Nice to have some more fresh blood in town.”

“All of y’all sound like a bunch sex-starved, malcontents,” Bobby grumbled. 

“Yeah, the way you all are talking, I’m waiting for the lot of you, including you, Dean, to jump up and high-tail across town to see who gets him first. Should I set my timer?” Ellen laughed looking at her watch.

“Well, I’m in!” Ash sniffed, “I’m sure once the new Doc meets The Doctor,” he said pointing his thumbs towards his chest, “there’ll be no competition.”

“Count me out…unless he has a daughter my age,” Kevin added hopefully.

“I don’t know. I really had no interest in him, except to get out of there. Though he did have some of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen on a human.” Dean added remembering looking into them while the doctor attempted to clean that ungodly red sauce off his…

“Not interested? Right. What’s that far away look in your eye now about, brotha? That don’t look like disinterest to me.” Benny gave Dean the side eye.

“Alright, being that I’m wholly uninterested in this Dr. Sexy character, and Dean is probably tired of all of us by now and needs his rest, I’m heading out.” Jo leaned over, kissed Dean on the side of his mouth and said her goodbyes to the rest of the group.

“Thanks, Jo. The kids’ll be sorry they missed you. They haven’t really seen you much since school started”

“When they’re feeling better, I’ll make plans to take them to the city with me soon. I know Emma wanted to go to the First Friday Art Walk and do some shopping. And Ben had asked about going to the vintage record store and asked if I could take him back to the Motorsports Park to watch some more drag racing and maybe see my friend who works as a mechanic for one of the teams.” Jo always enjoyed spending ‘aunt’ time with Emma and Ben. “It’ll work out great since the track has the Finally Friday Night races now.”

Ellen, Charlie and Jo had picked up the snacks and cleaned the kitchen, putting the leftovers in several small single serving sized containers in case Dean wanted to snack later.

Benny, Ash, Lee and Bobby had helped arrange the downstairs combination office/library into a temporary bedroom for Dean. They’d brought down and set up one of the twin beds that was in one of the upstairs guest rooms. They moved Dean’s desk and chairs against one wall, brought down a small chest of drawers from the attic and filled it with t-shirts, loose drawstring sleeping pants, flannel shirts, some Henleys, underwear, and some socks. On top of the chest, they’d placed his brush, combs, cologne, deodorant, razors and other toiletries. It was a short distance to the downstairs bathroom, where they made sure everything he may need was well stocked, including extra towels, soaps, shamp, toilet paper and other bathing necessities. They moved a small side table next to the bed and placed a lamp, the office’s tv remote, a box of tissues, his phone charger and a few bottles of water. They made sure his crutches were nearby, he had a clear path to the bathroom and that there were extra blankets on the foot of the bed.

By the time Benny and Lee were satisfied that they had completed the set up to their satisfaction and thought Dean had everything he needed, they were the last guests left. Everyone had slowly trickled out after having said their goodbyes and giving Dean their well-wishes and hugs.

Benny and Lee made Dean show them that he was good on the crutches to get to the bathroom and get himself to the bed. Before they left, Dean asked them if one of them could give him the picture of him with his kids and his dog. Benny told him he’d already taken it off the nightstand from the master bedroom and placed it on the table next to the twin bed.

“Thanks Benny.”

“No problem, brotha. My offer to stay still stands.” Benny said.

“I know, but I think I’m good for tonight. I am still completely worried about where Miracle could be, but I’m hoping it’s something like when I first got her and let her have time off while I was putting that new roof on the addition, and she chased that prairie dog back to that prairie dog town and he was occupied digging through their colonies for three days. I am worried, but hopeful.” Dean ran his hands through his hair. “ I mean, I think I’m going to be ok for the night without him. Kids aren’t here for me to worry about. Sam said they’re doing ok, but still have the runs, so since he’s dealing with that, I’ll put that in my ‘win’ column.” Dean laughed. 

“We left the doggy door unlocked, have a bowl of water for him, the security camera feed is fine and you can see it from the bed. I think you’re all set.” Lee said as he leaned over to double check the camera feed.

“If you need anything, and I mean _anything_ , you give me a call and I’ll be right over.” Benny instructed with stern concern. He leaned down and kissed him on the forehead and he lingered a little too long. Lee broke the moment.

“Come on Benny. My turn to say bye.” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “Alright… go ahead.”

Lee gave him a kiss on the forehead too and patted Dean’s cheek. “Call us if you need us Dean, okay?” He said and squeezed Dean’s hand, their fingers grasped around each other and then he let go.

“Night Benny, night Lee.”

“Night Dean.” They said at the same time and then they left. Someone had checked Dean’s mail for him. Among the junk mail and bills was a letter from the bank. He wouldn’t see it until the morning. He wouldn’t know the bank was going to try to take the farm until the next day.

  
  


Dean woke up late the next morning. He felt around next to him for Miracle, before remembering that she was still missing. He thought about the ride home when Benny and Lee had told him about Miracle being missing. 

It was distressing to him more so at first. However, after talking about it with Lee and Benny, he realized it was just a series of circumstances that were similar to something they’d dealt with once before. Just like last time, he’d let Miracle be off-duty, to let her just have real dog time and run around and play. Unfortunately, this time, instead of running off chasing prairie dogs, it was Dean who accidentally left Miracle when he fell.

The fall and broken leg, which created a bit of panic amongst his friends who just wanted to get him to the doctor, were both done and over with. Well, to the extent that he knew he was mostly ok. They were nothing he could change. Three was no reason to blame the guys for leaving Miracle behind when he didn’t come when called. They saw Miracle’s tracks had gone off towards the fence line and into the hedgerows that formerly separated the two farms. They saw the paw prints exit the other side and zigzag back and forth like Miracle was chasing something. She was OK, just off being a dog. He didn’t have to panic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“I need some coffee!” Dean yelled to the empty room.

  
  



	5. Fresh Country Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has gas and a lot of it apparently.

****Saturday. November 7th, 2020.****

**  
** Castiel woke early the next morning. As soon as he opened his eyes he felt the dog’s head lift from his leg. She slept by him all night again, only moving when he rolled over. He sat up and ruffled her ears.

“Good morning, Little Missy.” He smiled at her as she wagged her tail wildly. “Are you hungry?”

She barked and looked towards the bedroom door.

“OK, let’s go get some breakfast!” He turned to the edge of the bed, stretching as he stood up. He did a Sun Salutation and few other quick stretches as his little companion bounced around him, excited for food.

As Castiel headed down the stairs to the kitchen, he stopped by to peek in on Claire, then Jack, on the way. The dog kept pace just a heel step behind and to the side of him. Castiel had never really been a dog person, and had only had one dog when he and his brothers were very young, so he did not have much experience or knowledge, but one thing for sure, this girl was extremely well-trained, and of good temperament. He was sure that if she still had a family, they must be besides themselves with worry.

He had tried to get home early enough yesterday to pick her up and bring her to the vet to check for a chip, but was later than he wanted to be leaving the clinic. He checked the vet’s Saturday office hours and found the mornings were reserved for farm calls, surgeries and emergencies. They could fit him in for the chip reading later that morning closer to noon. The office had three veterinarians. Castiel snorted thinking about a town that had three vets, and no doctors for the humans.

  
  


He opened the door for Little Missy, as he’d decided to call her until he found out otherwise, to run out and do her business. He left the door open wondering if she’d just run off or come back in. He really wanted to find her home if she still had one, but he was aware that people often came to the country to dump unwanted pets. He couldn’t imagine doing that to such a sweet dog, but he’d seen the works of too many bad people while working in the trauma center of two major cities. Sometimes humans weren’t very humane.

He turned to the kitchen and got out the eggs, fresh spinach, cheese, butter, an orange, some grapes, some fresh shaved deli ham and the fresh baked bread he loved. He didn’t usually drink coffee with his breakfast, except on the weekend mornings. After he started his coffee, he grabbed his medium sized frying pan and put butter in the pan to heat. He broke several eggs in a mixing bowl, poured in a small amount of milk, scrambled it to a nice froth and poured it into the hot pan. He pinched several fingers full of shaved ham and tossed them in with the eggs. He quickly stirred the ham and eggs, before tossing in a handful of fresh spinach and finally, a handful of cheese. He gave it all one last stir before dumping the entire contents on a platter and putting a pot lid on top. 

He placed the pan in the sink, and quickly put away the ingredients as he popped his bread in the toaster. He could hear footsteps and loud muffled giggling and screams from upstairs, telling him the kids were awake. He made his coffee, grabbed the organic fresh fruit spread he bought at a roadside stand, plated his eggs, toast, grapes and orange, and was about to sit for his breakfast when he saw Little Missy watching him intently. She licked her lips as he looked at her. 

“Hello, young lady. I didn’t even notice your return.” Castiel placed his breakfast on the table, grabbed a bowl and scooped some of the breakfast eggs into the dog’s bowl. He refreshed her water bowl, washed his hands and sat to eat. 

He wasn’t sure if dogs ate spinach, or any vegetables or plant products for that matter, but Little Missy went to town gobbling it down. He suspected the ham and eggs pulled her in and the spinach was just an unfortunate flavor she had to endure to finish the meal when he saw that she finished it all, but there were pieces of spinach left by the wayside.

Castiel had just finished cleaning up the kitchen as Jack and Claire came shoving each other down the stairs.

“Ow!” Jack cried, “you _know_ it was you! Whoever smelt it dealt it!”

Claire punched her brother in the arm several times very hard, then jumped on his back. 

“It was not! Admit it! Admit it!” She yelled punching his arm several more times.

“Get off my back or I fart all over you!”

Jack swung himself side to side violently trying to shake Claire off of his back, both of them laughing the entire time.

“5. 4. 3. 2. 1! Here it comes!” Jack yelled as he flung himself and Claire backwards onto the large L- shaped sectional sofa. He pulled the throw blanket that had been resting along its back down over him and Claire as Castiel heard the room reverberate with an extensive and very loud fart.

Claire was laughing and screaming bloody murder. Jack had her pinned down with all his weight laying on top of her as she was behind his back, blanket over both of them. 

“Let me out! Let me out! I’m going to suffocate! Ack! Ugh!” Claire screamed louder and made a gagging sound.

“Please! I give in! I give in! Daaadddddd, HELP!”

Little Missy looked from the children to Castiel with a worried look. Castiel just stood watching and laughing and reached down to pet her as he laughed louder. Seemingly understanding that it was playtime, the dog barked twice at the flailing mound on the sofa, then jumped on top barking loud and burrowing her nose into the blanket.

Jack let out an “oof!” as the dog landed on his stomach. He pulled the blanket up where he felt her snoot. Immediately, the dog moaned, picked up her head barking and began rubbing her nose with her paw. 

“Dad! Tell him to let me UP! I swear I’m gonna throw up on you, Jack!”

Castiel walked over to pull the blanket off as the dog jumped down and ran off. 

“Alright, come. Let her up, Jack,” Castiel said holding back a laugh. Just as he started rolling up the blanket, Jack let out another earth shattering fart as Claire screamed, “NOOOOooooooooo!”

Little Missy was jumping up and down barking. 

“C’mon you’re upsetting the do—” Castiel threw the end of the blanket down and backed away. “My god, Jack! What have you been eating?”

  
  


The dog yelped and ran off up the stairs.

Castiel honestly thought his breakfast was going to come up.

  
  


And Claire just started flailing in a blind panic screaming, 

“PLEEEEAAASSSEEE!” 

Jack could barely breathe. He was laughing so hard.

“Jack! Stop this now!” demanded Castiel, who now held a kitchen towel over his mouth and nose, fanning his free hand around.

“OK. Sorry, Dad. Sorry Claire. Really I’m sooooo…” more loud rumbling farts almost drowned out Jack’s final grunting “…sssooooorrryyyy!”

Jack stood, threw the blanket back on Claire’s face and went to the kitchen laughing.

Claire was pouting, whining, gagging and laughing at the same time as she pulled the blanket off of her and tossed it back on the sofa.

“Uh, no, that thing needs to go in the wash, now!” Castiel said as he grabbed it between two fingers. “Get the air freshener NOW, Jack!”

Between retching gags and laughs Castiel got the blanket to the laundry room and came back to see Claire standing in the open door, fanning the door back and forth in giant arcs.

Jack was spraying the living room and sofa with the air freshener and gagging at the same time.

Castiel lost it and just started laughing, which he regretted immediately upon his first deep inhale.

“That’s it. Whatever the hell you’ve been eating, you are never allowed to consume again, do you understand me!?” He roared, holding back another gag.

Claire burst out laughing.

“I bet he couldn’t eat an entire container of blue cheese and a pack of pepperoni that Uncle Gabe had in his refrigerator and the dumbass took that bet.” Claire doubled over laughing.

“Claire! Language.” Castiel admonished.

“I won, didn’t I, though?!” Jack gagged and laughed more. “Actually, I won twice, because I got to get sweet revenge on you!”

“You almost threw up on the kitchen table and all of the cookie inventory!” Claire declared. “You’re lucky you finished cleaning up the floor before Uncle Gabe caught you, Idjit!” She guffawed.

“OK, I was going to ask you all if you wanted to come into town with me, but clearly Jack will be incapable of being in an enclosed area any time soon. I shudder at thinking what your bedroom smells like right now, and god forbid, what the bathroom will smell like later.” Castiel exclaimed with a scowl. “I should take those eggs away from you.”

“You two can stay here and play OUTSIDE with the dog. Clean up the rest of the kitchen after you’ve eaten and for all that is holy Jack, if you feel a fart coming on, run outside! I just pray there’s no rain in the forecast today.”

Castiel went to change, then grabbed the Lost Dog flyers, his wallet and car keys. Little Missy followed him downstairs and sat on the floor next to Jack’s chair.

“I’m going into town quickly to put up a few flyers about the dog, grab some pastries and fresh donuts, then I’m stopping to check on one of my patients. I’ll be back home around 11:45 or so. That’s a little over three and a half hours. If you want to go anywhere today, I suggest you finish unpacking your last two boxes and put the items away neatly. And get all that flatulence out of you, Jack!”

Castiel walked off shaking his head and laughing. “I picked up a few cans of dog food yesterday I forgot in the car. I’ll leave them on the carport bench,” he said leaning over to peck them each on the forehead in turn. “Only feed her once for lunch if she’s hungry before I get back, and only half of the can.”

Castiel turned as he got to the door, “I’ll call if I’m delayed for any reason. Please behave while I’m gone.”

“Angels, Dad. We’re just Angels.” Claire replied. They both laughed.

“Yes. Angels.” Castiel pulled the door closed behind him, then opened it back up, remembering he wanted to air out the house.

More laughter ensued.

  
  



	6. House Call

Castiel had found three community bulletin boards to place the flyers on at various places on the main street of the town, as well as in his brother’s shop. He was disappointed that the people he asked in the few stores open this early, knew nothing. Suffice to say one was new to this town, one was an extremely surly teenager who was doing community service picking up garbage for some legal infraction and the third was either very hard of hearing or possibly had a comprehension issue, because they just mumbled, nodded, took a handful of flyers and placed them on the counter. Gabriel said he liked the quaint informality of the small town. Castiel thought it was a bit more quirky and less quaint. 

  
  


He tossed the extra flyers on the passenger seat as he squeezed into the driver’s seat with the two boxes of pastries from Gabriel, which he then set down on the console. He took out his phone to pull up the directions to the Winchester place. He had not ventured that far away from the town since his arrival, but it was down the road from his place, so it shouldn’t be difficult to find. 

  
  


Castiel shoved the two boxes of pastries and donuts over to the passenger seat and headed back towards the road that led to his new home. As he came near the driveway to his place, he sat forward and craned his neck to see if the children were outside playing with the dog. All he caught a glimpse of as he drove past was a ball sailing across the yard and the dog in hot pursuit.

  
  


He continued around the long curve of the road until it straightened out. He drove a short distance until another curve began arcing in the opposite direction. After several minutes he saw the reflective gate markers on his right and slowly turned in, checking the name on the mailbox.

  
  


“D. Winchester. Yep,” he sighed. He really hoped Mr. Winchester was feeling less hostile and sullen now that he was home.

  
  


Castiel saw the good-sized farmhouse come into view as his car got to the crest of a very small hill. The multi-gabled, very traditional farmhouse had an overall T-shape. Castiel guessed that the smaller section at the top of the “T” was the house that had formerly occupied the land by his barn home. The larger section of what was likely the original two story house on this land, had an, at least, metal roofed, two-sided wrap around porch from what he could see, and a large chimney sticking up at one end of the roof. The smaller section had a chimney of the same brickwork which led him to surmise that the chimneys were new or newly rebuilt. 

  
  


He pulled up and stopped the car at the curved driveway section in front of the large porch. Getting out, he took in the rest of the property in his view. There was a wide swath of concrete drive leading to the barn-like garage to one side of the house and then a gravel road leading away off the side of the garage. Much further back he could see the peak of the roof of an actual barn and a few outbuildings. Looking back toward the gate entrance, he really couldn’t see anything because of the low hill, but he remembered the fence was lined with small trees and just mostly a large dirt and gravel-covered, bare spot to one side.

  
  


Closing his door, he walked around to the passenger side and retrieved a box of pastries and donuts. He closed the door, then turned back to grab a few of the invitation announcements for Gabriel’s Sweet Spot. He was not on official hospital clinic business, and Mr. Winchester had expressed a keen interest in going to the shop, so Castiel did not feel it was too inappropriate for him to pass some of them to his patient. He closed the car door again, and then stood thinking about it for a few seconds. It did make him a bit anxious, he opened the car door again. He almost second thought it and put them back in the car, but mustered his courage and slammed the door again. 

  
  


Standing upright, shoulders back, he took a deep breath, steeling himself against his doubt as well as the possible inhospitable mood he might encounter from Mr. Winchester. He shoved the invitations into his jacket pocket, turned around, and began to ascend the steps.

  
  


“Well, it’s about time,” Dean Winchester was in the already opened doorway in his wheelchair. “Does it always take you this long to get to someone’s front door. 

  
  


Castiel stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t know what to say.

  
  


“Well, don’t stop now. You’re here and halfway up. C’mon! You can do it. Just a few more steps.” Dean began slowly backing himself up to make room for the doctor to enter.

  
  


Castiel felt his face flush. 

  
  


“Good morning, Mr. Winchester, I hope this day has you feeling a bit better since you’ve been home?” He stopped short of the threshold. 

  
  


Dean backed the wheelchair up to make more room for his guest to enter. “Yes. Yes I do. Please, come on in all the way. I’m not a monster.” He smiled. Why couldn’t the man come in like a regular person? Was he afraid or just unhappy at having to work on a Saturday? Dean took a deep breath, feeling annoyed that he’d be the reason the doctor’s weekend was interrupted by such an odious task of checking on a patient he clearly was not actually interested in seeing.

Castiel smiled at him, “I’m very glad to hear that,” he said genuinely. He turned to close the door for Dean who’d rolled off towards the spacious main combination living, dining, and kitchen area. 

  
  


“Can I offer you a drink? Tea, water, a coke?” He swept his arm towards the kitchen. 

  
  


“Um, yes, I’d appreciate that as I’ve been on the road a while this morning.” Castiel stood still with his box of pastries.

  
  


Dean stared at him for a second, trying to figure him out.

  
  


“It might be easier if you set your box down and grab a glass from the cabinet. My friends somehow didn’t think about my inability to reach for extra glassware or plates from the high cabinets. The stuff in the dishwasher is dirty.” 

  
  


Castiel blinked with a start. “Oh, yes, yes. I’m sorry, I just didn’t think.” He gave the box of pastries to Dean.

  
  


“These are from my brother’s shop. I thought you may be hungry for breakfast if you happened to sleep late or just that you may want to sample some of his wares.”

  
  


Castiel walked around the island and looked at the array of cabinets trying to deduce where he might find drinking glasses. He opened a cabinet on one side of the sink, closed it and checked the one on the other side of the sink. He closed it and looked around. He saw the opened box, Dean with head down and a giant smile on his face.

  
  


“Wha—? Pie! Hell, yeah!” Dean looked up at Castiel and pointed to the cabinet next to the refrigerator. “Hey, grab a couple of plates out that cabinet there.” He pointed. “Tea’s in the fridge in the pitcher.

  
  


Castiel smiled and brought the plates, two glasses, two forks and a knife from the first drawer he looked in, and the pitcher of iced sweet tea. He really wasn’t hungry, but didn’t want to be a bad guest.

  
  


“I love me some pie,” Dean was all smiles “and this smells delicious!”

  
  


“Yes, my brother is an excellent baker. I’m sorry I didn’t catch all the names of the items he put in the box. Some of the names are similar. All are risqué. I do recall this particular pie is called the Bi Pie. It is filled with a combination of half cream pie and half fruit, ‘swirled together, giving you the best combination of both worlds.’” Castiel quoted, then busied himself placing out the plates and utensils. He took the box from Dean and cut a small piece of the pie to put on one plate for him, then placed the remainder of the pie on the second plate. He had the feeling that it would be no problem for Dean to finish off in one go.

  
  


Castiel handed Dean his plate and fork, and gave him a paper napkin he pulled from the full napkin holder on the island. 

  
  


“Take a load off, Doc.” Dean pointed his fork towards one of the barstools at the island.

  
  


“Thank you.” Castiel took a seat next to Dean’s wheelchair.

  
  


“Mmmm! Oh, man is this delicious!” Dean closed his eyes, savoring the flavor.

  
  


“Yes, my brother has a way with all things sweet,” Castiel agreed and took another bite.

  
  


“I’ll definitely be a regular customer.” Dean said around the forkful he’d just shoveled in his mouth. “Yep.”

  
  


Castiel smiled. “That reminds me,” he said, pulling the invitation cards from his jacket pocket, “I am not sure if it’s a wise thing for you to go to in your present state, but I’ve brought you some invitations to the Official HARD Open of Gabriel’s Sweet Spot.”

  
  


Castiel handed a small stack of the cards to Dean. “They list the new official hours, some of the featured signature products, discount coupons, and coupons for one free individual serving pie as well as a free donut of your choice.”

  
  
  


Dean took the stack of cards, took one off of the top and read:

  
  


Gabriel’s Sweet Spot

HARD Open

Come Slide On In

6:00PM

Friday, December 4th

325 Broadway Street

The Only

Adults Only Sweet Spot

  
  


The card had images of the featured confections.

  
  


Ask about Our Cream Pies, Penis Pops & Lollidicks!

Candies, Cakes & Ice Creams

We do it all!

Twinks and Bears (claws)

We Apple BendOver to give it all.

  
  


At the bottom of the card were three coupons.

  
  


15% off any purchase

One Free Cream Pie of Your Choice

One Free Cream-filled Donut Hole

Ask for a Squirt of Jizt Cherry or Moist Glaze TOPS

  
  


The back of the card had a list of many of the different products the shop sold.

  
  


Cream Filled Donut Holes

with or without Moist Glaze

Pop the Cherry 

Donut, Turnover, Cupcake or Pie filled with our Famous 

Cherry Filling

Fruit Bend-Over

Apple, Peach, Apricot, or Cherry Turnovers

Daddy Bear

Bear Claws

Twinks 

Our Signature Deep-fried Topped Twinkies

Top your Twink with a Squirt of Jizz

Our Moist or Creamy Sweet Sauces

Jizt Cherry

Jizt Creamed Moist Glaze

Or Any of Our

Jizt Berry Legal Flavors 

Like Those Cream Pies?

We’re All Creamed Up

Top or Fill with Your Favorite 

Moist Glaze or Squirt of Jizz

Bi Pie

Our Dual Filled Pies

Angel Or Devil

We’ve Got Your Cake

It’s Nipply In Here at Our Ice Cream Counter

Try a Threesome Banana Split

Fudged Nipple

Berry Legal

Snatch a Side Snack!

Cookies & Cupcakes

Topped and Filled

Gabriel’s Sweet Spot

M - F 9am - 5pm

Saturday 10am-4pm

Closed Sundays

  
  
  


Castiel watched Dean as he read the card. He watched micro-expressions of amusement, momentary confusion, understanding, and more amusement flash across Dean’s face as he sometimes furrowed his brow, sometimes nodded with a growing smile. 

  
  


He liked seeing Dean smile as opposed to the mainly surly expressions he was used to seeing from his patient. Castiel did not realize that a smile had sprung up on his own face as well.

  
  


Dean flipped the card back to the images of the products. “Thanks, Doc! This Bi Pie was right up my alley!” 

  
  


“Please, call me Castiel…” Castiel’s breath caught as Dean, smiling, turned to glance at him. The green eyes had a light to them and the hard lines of Dean’s face had softened making him look younger and less world-weary.

Dean nodded, still smiling, but the smile from his eyes became an intense gaze. He had never really seen the Doc smile a real smile that touched his eyes in the way it was doing now. The blue became even bluer…if such a thing was possible. He had soft laugh lines around his eyes which were sparkling with a mischievousness. Dean’s eye was drawn to Castiel’s smile. Beautiful white teeth with just a hint of gums showing. Yes, this was a genuine happy smile, not just “pleasant doctor” shit. 

Castiel watched as Dean’s smile lessened, then came back as a lopsided grin. He felt his own smile widen.

Dean’s fork slid off of the plate in his lap and clattered against the wheelchair on its way to the floor, bringing both men out of their reverie.

“Oh, I’ll get that!” Castiel felt strange, like he had lost time in those moments before. “Allow me.” Hand out, Castiel indicated the plate on Dean’s lap. Dean picked the plate up to hand it off. Fingertips touched lightly as the plate was passed. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Dean, who quickly pulled his hand away, smile now completely gone.

  
  


Castiel’s smile faded. He squinted with a tilt of his head. What had he done now? He thought he was, perhaps, getting somewhere in his attempt at friendship, or the very least, lessening the seeming hostility he always felt aimed at him from Mr. Winchester. He walked around to the sink, washed the plates, forks and knife and placed them in the dish drainer.

  
  


“I appreciate you sharing the pie with me, and the tea.” He felt awkward, nervous and unwanted, and was trying to figure out a way to ask Dean how he was feeling without angering him more. He hadn’t felt this unsure of himself when dealing with a patient since his med school residency days.

  
  


“No, thank you for bringing them. Really.” Dean had rolled over to look out of the window.

  
  


“Did you fill the Tylenol prescription or are you just taking the over the counter ones?”

  
  


“Nah, I just took some last night before I slept, to help with the soreness.” Dean wheeled away from the window and noticed the pile of mail on the table at his front door entryway. He wheeled over to pick it up.

“Are you not experiencing much pain?”

  
  


“Oh, I’ve got plenty of pain. I’ve had some very sharp, shooting pains, general soreness, my neck is still a bit sore, and random muscle aches, but not enough to bother with.” Dean shuffled slowly through his stack of mail as he spoke. “My foot really hurts sometimes, and my ankle, too. Every once in a while it feels like my whole leg would involuntarily kick out in a giant twitch if I didn’t have this huge cast on.”

  
  


“Do you mind?” Castiel had come over to Dean and had squatted down next to the wheelchair.

  
  


“No.” Dean stopped checking his mail, and indicated to go ahead.

  
  


Castiel bent to inspect the bit of Dean’s toes exposed at the front of the cast. There was slight swelling still but considerably less than when he was first brought in to the clinic, and less than yesterday. 

  
  


“I suggest you continue taking the Tylenol regularly for at least the rest of the week,” Castiel stood. “It’ll help minimize any swelling, which can aid in the healing process as well as make you feel a bit more comfortable. It’s not a bad thing or a failing of character to take medication for pain, especially just an OTC.” He placed a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

  
  


Dean looked up and nodded. 

  
  


“I’m glad to see you’ve taken my advice and are using the chair. It’s nice that you have a spacious great room to be able to get around easily.” Castiel said looking around.

  
  


“Yeah, this section was the original old farmhouse on the land here, built in 1899. It replaced the original home. A bigger place, a log cabin, that burnt down a few years prior. So this was state of the art, with indoor plumbing, radiator heating, some closets and even natural gas stove, which was not really easily available in the United States at that time, but the owner was afraid of another house fire.” Dean wheeled the chair to face the spacious room. “Go head, have a look around.”

  
  


Castiel nodded and walked around to admire the work done, as Dean explained where old walls were removed and the house’s former room footprint.

  
  


“That entire section in the back there, where my office and the rec room is, was actually the farmhouse that was on the land with the barn where you live now.” Dean looked around. “When we bought that property, we moved that smaller house to add on here.”

  
  


Castiel admired the work as he looked down the back hall, but did not go too far.

  
  


“It’s very nice, you did beautiful work.” He said, looking up at the large, old beams that now supported the vast open spaces. “I can tell it was done with love and with an appreciation for the history of the homes.”

  
  


“In those large frames over there,” Dean said pointing them out to Castiel, “are the original blueprints from 1899. We found them in an old locker in the basement. Lisa wasn’t fond of my idea to have them professionally preserved and framed, but when it was all said and done, she came over to my side.” Dean smiled, remembering. 

  
  


Castiel had turned from admiring the blueprints to look at Dean when he mentioned Lisa. “Oh?” He inquired.

  
  


“Yeah, she had told me I could hang them in my office if I liked them that much, but when they came back from the framers and she saw them, she fell in love with them, and insisted they be hung here as a centerpiece of the home. It was where I’d wanted them in the beginning. Sometimes she had difficulty understanding my creative vision, but she usually came around.”

“Well, I must say Mr. Winchester, you’ve built a very lovely, and seemingly love-filled home.” 

  
  


“It’s Dean. Just call me Dean. Mr. Winchester is my father.”

  
  


“OK, Dean.” Castiel smiled. He felt like this visit was a good thing and he’d made great strides in changing the dynamic between him and his patient.

  
  


“How are your twins doing? I assume your brother, Sam?, told you he brought them to see me?” He said as he leaned against a barstool.

  
  


“Yeah, I talked to them last night. I really wish I could have them here with me. I feel terrible for not being able to be the one to sooth them when they’re sick.” He looked miserable for a few seconds. “Their temperatures are pretty much normal except in the evening, when they rose slightly. They’re still running to the bathroom, but not as often.” Dean smiled, “So I guess I lucked out in that department though!”

  
  


“Glad to hear. The sooner tamiflu is administered, the faster it works, but if taken too late, it often may not even help.”

  
  


Dean nodded.

  
  


“And your brother has not displayed any symptoms?” The physician in him could not help checking up.

  
  


“No, he’s doing well. He said he took the medication after seeing what the kids were going through, he didn’t want to wait to find out if he was going to get it or not.” Dean chuckled. “As much as I want to be there for them, I’m glad you told them they needed to stay away. I could not imagine a way that I’d be able to get myself to a bathroom in time.” He shuddered.

  
  


“No, I don’t imagine you could.” Castiel smiled.

  
  


“Well, I am glad to see that you’re doing OK. Please continue to stay off of your leg and you’ll most likely heal, if not faster, at least better than if you use that leg before you should.”

  
  


“No, I will do my best to stay off of it. I don’t know if you have children or not, D— Cas…s’alright if I call you Cas? I’m going to call you Cas.” Dean didn’t leave time for Castiel to reply at which Castiel smiled. “But having kids is one thing, having a set of twins is a whole different ball game that you just can’t understand.”

  
  


“No, I do have children. As a matter of fact, I understand all too well, because I have t…”

  
  


“You might have kids, but…”

  
  


“I do understand. I have twins myself.” Castiel interrupted with a nodding smile as Dean jerked his head to check for the truth.

  
  


“Yes.” Castiel’s smile widened. 

  
  


“No, shit?!” Dean asked, still not believing.

  
  


“Yes, a boy and a girl just like you.” Castiel was still nodding trying to convince Dean of his veracity. “Mine are thirteen. Will be fourteen at the end of May. May 18th.”

  
  


“Are you shitting me?” Dean turned his wheelchair to face Castiel directly. “Mine were born in May too, May 1st. They’ll be fifteen.”

  
  


“No, I am not. They are at home, the barn, waiting for my return right now, which is why I need to head out now and leave you to your day.” Castiel said as he stood up. “I hope that they get to meet soon, seeing as we’re almost neighbors. It’s a rare thing for twins to have twins in the same age range and school, let alone live in the same area.”

  
  


“Oh, well, we _are_ neighbors.” Dean grinned. “It may take almost ten minutes to get here by the highway, but if you take that driveway around towards the garage and follow it out onto the gravel road, you’ll find yourself right at home in about three and a half minutes, five minutes by bicycle. Anytime you want, feel free to use that road.”

  
  


“Well, I most certainly will. Thank you again.” Castiel began to head towards the door. “Is there anything I can help you with or get you before I head home?”

  
  


Dean looked around quickly, thinking. “No, no. You’ve cleaned those plates and the glasses, so I’m good to reach them where they are now. Thanks for stopping by. At least it was better than I thought it was going to be.”

  
  


Dean rolled his eyes and put his head down when he saw the stunned expression on the doctor’s face.

  
  


“No, no! I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that before, I …”

  
  


“That’s OK, Mr. Winchester, I understand. Sometimes some people just don’t get along.” Castiel backed towards the door as he fumbled in his pocket for his keys.

“I’ve got to get home to my kids and that dog to…you wouldn’t happen to know anyone who—”

  
  


“Dog! You have a dog? How long have you had a dog?!” Dean demanded.

  
  


By Dean’s reaction, Castiel thought perhaps that since he was renting the barnhouse, that Dean did not allow dogs.

  
  


”No, she’s not mine. I’m terribly sorry. I wasn’t aware that pets were not allowed.” Castiel couldn’t believe that after the congenial visit they had, that he managed once again to bring out the petulant side of Dean Winchester. “She showed up at my home the night I got into town. I—”

  
  


“She? _She’s_ not yours!?!” Dean was seething with emotions; hope, relief, anger, dread that he was wrong and it was not his girl.

  
  


Dean rolled his chair towards Castiel menacingly. “You mean to tell me you’ve had someone else’s dog this whole time? Were you just planning on keeping her for yourself?! What kind of man takes another man’s dog!?”

  
  


“Do you know who she belongs to? I’ve been—” 

  
  


“She belongs to _ME_!” Dean exploded. “She…” He felt tears of anger and relief washing over him and he didn’t think he could speak without bursting into tears.

  
  


Castiel was so startled by the loud outburst that he dropped his keys.

  
  


He stopped himself and took a deep breath. 

  
  
  


“I’m sorry, Dean. I was trying to—“ 

  
  
  


“That’s Mr. Winchester. Please, I need… can you just go get my dog?” Dean took another deep breath and picked the mail up off his lap to finish going through. He felt he needed to do something or to hit someone, and finishing checking his mail seemed to be the best alternative.

  
  


“I’ll return with her as quickly as possible. I’m sorry.” Dean ignored him and was frantically opening an envelope.

  
  


Castiel bent to retrieve his keys and was startled yet again by another loud outburst from Dean.

  
  
  


“ _NO_ ! No, no, no, _no!” NOooo! What the hell, man!_ What the hell?!” Dean started panting and wheezing. “Oh, god! What the fuck am I going…to do?! What am I supposed to do?!”

  
  


“I’m leaving now. I won’t be long. I’m sorry that I’ve caused you such distress.” Castiel picked up and dropped his keys twice in his nervousness.

  
  


“I can’t, I can’t.“ Dean was sitting forward trying to steady his nerves and taking deep breaths. “I need my d…” He felt like he was suffocating and the panic was rising. He began to hyperventilate .

  
  


Castiel finally picked up his keys and stood to leave when he realized that Dean was having a severe panic attack. He went over to Dean and began to speak in a soothing voice. Dean had begun rocking himself slightly back and forth, clutching at his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

  
  


Castiel spoke softly, “Deep breaths, Dean. Deep breaths.” He remembered when he’d walked by Dean’s room once, and saw the nurse, Ezekiel, with his palm over Dean’s chest. He’d asked him about it later and Ezekiel showed him the technique he’d developed to help his father. Castiel decided he’d try it out now since it had seemed to help Dean before.

“Mr. Winchester, I’m going to place my hand on your arm to help ground you if I have your permission.” Castiel said quietly.

  
  


Dean looked up and nodded. “O…K.” He breathed raggedly.

  
  


“I’m going to place your mail back on the table for you.” As Castiel gently took the mail from Dean’s grasp, he heard Dean’s breath rate increase again. He hastily put the mail down, and saw in large red letters “Warning of Imminent Foreclosure“ stamped across the top of the letter that Dean had been holding when his panic attack began.

  
  


Castiel quickly returned back to Dean, placing his hand on Dean’s arm and soothing him with words. “Deep breathes. Listen to my breathing.” Castiel took in a long, slow breath, raising his shoulders and puffing his chest out to show Dean to do the same.

  
  


“I’m going to place my hand on your chest. oK?”

  
  


Dean nodded, taking a short, sharp breath, he placed his hands on the wheelchair armrests and pushed raising himself off the chair slightly. 

  
  


Castiel used a gentle, but firm hand and began to press against Dean’ s chest. He mimicked the breathing rate he was trying to get Dean to copy.

  
  


“We can get through this together. It’s going to be ok, Dean. Please relax. Deep breaths.”

  
  


His hand was still firmly splayed directly over the center of Dean’s chest, yet Dean was still stiff as a board and could not slow his breath down. This panicked him even more. He began to see spots before his eyes and felt like his heart was going so fast, that it would explode

  
  


“Shh. It’s going to be alright.Deep breaths.”

  
  


“I ca…n’t …breathe” Dean was becoming more panicky with each second. 

  
  


Castiel could not understand what he was doing wrong. He was doing it exactly as he practiced with nurse Ezekiel. He got closer and put one arm around Dean’s shoulder to try to get him to loosen up, still breathing deep, calming breaths for Dean to copy.

  
  


Dean’s panting came faster still. Suddenly he relaxed his elbows and sat heavily back into the chair again. He frantically knocked Castiel’s hand off his chest with his forearm and roughly pulled open the placket of his Henley, buttons flying everywhere. He grabbed Castiel’s wrist with two hands and practically slammed it back firmly over his heart, palm on skin.

  
  


Castiel soothed him with soft shushes, pulsing his hand in slow, steady rhythm to match the breaths, while firmly squeezing Dean in a hug around his shoulders.

  
  


Dean leaned his head against Castiel’s temple turning his face to feel Castiel’s breaths. He did not let go of the doctor’s wrist.

  
  


Castiel pulled Dean closer into the security of his arms, still pulsing his palm over Dean’s heart. He tilted his head down and cooed soothing hushes and soft “yesses” and “oks” against Dean’s head just above his ear.

  
  


Dean leaned closer into Castiel’s chest. He could feel the doctor’s deep voice rumble soothingly in his chest. Like an intoxicating palliative, he felt a need to curl up against the strength and press his ears against the steady thump of Castiel’s heart. 

  
  


“Pplease,” he said in an almost whisper, finally drawing in a long, deep breath. He felt the smooth skin of a hand softly run over his shoulder and cradle his head to the warmth of a chest. He felt the “shh, shhh” wash over him. Pulling him even closer. 

  
  


Dean didn’t know when the dizziness began to dissipate or his breathing became normal. He didn’t know when his body had actually relaxed. And he certainly didn’t know at what point he had slipped his hands up to clasp Castiel’s hand between his two hands, fingers entwined, and to hold them against his chest under his chin. He just knew, he felt better more quickly than he’d ever had before and right now he just wanted to stay in this position for as long as he could.

“There. See. You’re good.” Castiel pressed Dean’s head to his chest, fingers stroking through Dean’s hair, rocking him almost imperceptibly. “Breathe.” He whispered into the soft, short locks. “We’re going to be ok. I’ve got you.” He rocked Dean more and laid a gentle kiss to the top of his head as he gently squeezed him close.

…

Suddenly, mortified, Castiel stiffened. Still aware of Dean’s panic, though ebbing, he didn’t want to bring it back again, so he just kept soothing and rocking him. He forced himself to not think about it and continue soothing his patient. 

  
  


They’d stayed that way another few minutes, until Dean’s breathing was normal and he slowly began to relax. Castiel felt Dean tighten his grip on the hand he’d been clasping like his life depended on it, and then slowly relax it. He felt Dean begin to lift his head, so he gently uncradled him and helped him sit upright. But Dean did not release his hand yet. Castiel rubbed Dean’s shoulder with his free hand.

  
  


“Good. You’re doing good.”

  
  


Dean sat fully upright and blinked. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah. I think I’m ok now.” He look up at Castiel. The blue was now a deep, dark sapphire. He just stared. 

He thought the first time he’d looked in those eyes they were so bright, like the deep blue of a summer sky. Now they were like the depths of the deepest jewel tone blue.

  
  


Castiel just sat calmly, still cooing soothing words. Inside all Castiel could think about was, ‘why did I kiss the top of his head?! Please, just let him not even remember that, please!’ The only answer he had as to why he kissed the top of Dean Winchester’s head while the man was having a panic attack, was because he remembered holding his children like this throughout their lives to sooth them, and it was just an unconscious, natural involuntary, fatherly action that just kicked in. He was still mortified.

  
  


Dean seemed to finally come out of his panic attack fog. He turned from holding Castiel’s gaze to look down. He took one long, deep breath, and squeezing his hand one last time, let go and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. Castiel stayed close leaving his hand draped over the chair’s armrest. He didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might leave Dean feeling alone or abandoned.

  
  


“You’re good now. You’re fine,” Castiel gently patted Dean’s shoulder.

  
  


Dean took another deep breath and turned to look at him.

  
  


“Yeah, I’m good.” Castiel looked at him earnestly. “I am good. It’s fine. You can get up. I’m, I’m ok.”

  
  


Castiel stood and walked to the kitchen. He got a glass of water and brought it to Dean. 

Grateful, Dean took it and emptied the glass. 

  
  


“More?” Castiel asked.

  
  


“No, no thanks. Look you don’t have to stick around. I appreciate what you did for me. But I don’t want to keep you.”

  
  


“Yes. I will return immediately with your dog,” Castiel took the glass from Dean, washed it out and placed it in the drain rack.

  
  


Dean had almost forgotten that Miracle was at his tenant’s place. He had a quick surge of anger again. “How is she? Was she very afraid or upset? How did you find her?”

  
  


“No, she was not afraid.” Castiel said softly. ”I had stopped by the clinic when I got into town, to pick up the keys to the barn. I was told they would be waiting there for me. As I was at the desk, your brother and friends heard me say I was the doctor and commandeered me to attend to your leg. I figured since the hospital was in such dire need that I’d stay awhile until that evening, even though I was not scheduled to start until this coming Monday. I got home, to the barn, from the hospital that first evening at sunset. Your friends helped me unpack the trailer of my boxes and other belongings. I started dinner, heard scratching at the door not too much later.”

  
  


“She’s smart, my Miracle is.” Dean said proudly. “She must’ve seen the lights on or smelled your cooking.”

  
  


“Miracle?” Castiel smiled. “Her name is Miracle. I’d never have guessed that. I tried so many typical names, but never anything close to that.”

  
  


“Guess?” Dean questioned, sarcastically. “Why didn’t you just do what most regular folks do and check her collar?” Man, this guy, really is a clueless brainiac, Dean thought.

  
  


“Well, that’d be an easy thing to do, _if_ you had a collar on your dog.” Castiel was getting a bit fed up with Dean Winchester’s attitude.

  
  


“What?! She didn’t have her collar on?”

  
  


“No. If she’d have had a collar, I’d have returned her posthaste. However, being that you were in the hospital that still would have been a bit difficult.”

  
  


“Well, if you were a better doctor who didn’t ban Service Animals from patients, then you could’ve brought her with you to get her to me at the hospital!” Dean raised his voice, agitated.

  
  


“A better doctor? I’m sorry, Mr. Winchester. There was not one indication in your files nor from you, your brother or your friends, that you either had an anxiety/panic disorder nor that you required or had a service animal.” Castiel was offended. 

  
  


“I brought your dog in, wet and filthy, full of caked-on mud, and shivering. I bathed her, blow dried her, fed her, played with her, asked her name for almost an hour. I even looked around out in the rain for a collar.” She was happy, if a bit clingy and then we went to bed where she slept by me, keeping vigil all night.” Castiel was on a rant over the accusation that he was not a good physician.

  
  


“Furthermore, when I went in to the hospital, mainly to make sure you, and my one other patient, were doing well, since I was not due in until Monday. That’s two days from now, in case you have trouble counting. I fed her, turned the tv on to keep her company, because I was not going to turn her out in the rain that morning, and apparently, she’s intelligent enough not to go out in the rain. By the time I got home, after picking up my children, the vet was closing, so I did not have enough time to come back out here and bring her to check for a chip. I have that scheduled at noon today.” He looked at his watch. “That’s in ten minutes.”

  
  


Castiel huffed as he pulled his shirt sleeve back down over his watch.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr, Winchester, I’ll go get your dog and cancel with the vet. I’ll return immediately.”

  
  


Castiel turned and walked out the door before allowing Dean to perturb him any further. He heard Dean saying something as he pulled the door closed, but he was beyond caring at the moment. That man truly was just a misanthrope, at least insofar as Castiel was concerned.

  
  


Castiel jumped in his car, and quickly pulled out of the half-circle driveway. He followed the driveway around towards the garage, until he saw where it led off towards the gravel road that led to his place. There were a couple of hedgerows and a gently sloping hill, then the road curved around a small pond and a short row of trees, coming out by the far side of his carport. Total time was 2.25 minutes. Castiel shrugged. “No speed limit on private property.”

  
  


He went inside and was greeted by Miracle wagging her tail.

  
  


“Hello, Little Missy.” He said bending down to pet her. “Or I should say, Miracle.”

  
  


Miracle’s ears perked up and she barked. Castiel vigorously ruffled her scruff.

  
  


“How do you know her name?” Jack asked. 

  
  


Castiel quickly explained, adding that he needed to return her quickly, since he found out she was a service dog.

  
  


“Aw! I really was hoping you never found her owners!” Jack bent down to hug Miracle and tell her how much he’d miss her.

  
  


“Dad, this means we have to get a dog now.” Claire demanded. “You can’t get us acclimated to a new furry family member and then just yank her away from our impressionable, growing young minds, nor devastate our tender still developing psyches.”

  
  


“I think you’ll survive.” You two just stay here and get ready so we can go head back to town and maybe go to the little town museum.”

  
  


“What? Lame. I’d rather go with you to bring the dog back.”

  
  


“Me, too, Dad. Why can’t we just go with you?” Jack whined.

  
  


“Well, first off, neither of you are in street clothes. Pajamas are not for going out in. And secondly, my patient is a bit stressed at the moment, between his broken leg, missing service dog and other personal issues, he just needs his dog right now, _sans_ company.”

  
  


“I’ll return in a few minutes. It’s not far at all, so be ready for my return.” Castiel called the dog and headed out to the car. “C’mon girl, get in.”

  
  


Miracle decided she did not want to go for a ride, but wanted to run off around the yard. It took considerable coaxing, and laughter from the kids at the windows, but he finally got her in the car. He drove almost as fast back to the Winchester house as he had going home.

Castiel pulled up in the circular driveway again and got out. Miracle followed him and immediately barked, and ran up the stairs to the front door. As soon as Castiel got to the top of the porch, Dean was opening the door. Miracle barked excitedly as she jumped up on Dean’s lap, and even yowled a few times with joy, over seeing her human again. 

  
  


Castiel stood for a moment, watching, then turned and left. He drove back home to pick up Claire and Jack for a day on their new town.


	7. In Sickness and in Health

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…know.”

  
Dean watched the door closing on his words. He doubted the doctor heard them. The doctor probably wouldn’t care if he _had_ heard them. As usual, he managed to say something stupid in his anger and frustration, and piss off someone who didn’t deserve it. At least not at the moment. 

  
  


“I mean he _did_ take good care of my Miracle.” Dean said into the black anger in his mind. “Yep, good going, Dean. You’re always such an asshole.”

  
  


Dean whipped the wheelchair around and grabbed the mail. He read the letter again.

  
  


90 days

  
  


How was he going to come up with $50,000 in ninety days? What the hell was he supposed to do? His biggest second moneymaker the last few years, Halloween, had just passed. He paid off some bills, paid a chunk of the mortgage and put some of it back into the farm’s Thanksgiving event fund, as well as daily farm operations. He needed to check with the bank on this. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right.

  
  


He could feel his breath becoming shallower and quicker. He closed his eyes and willed the oxygen to enter his lungs. Damn this broken leg!

  
  


He threw the stack of mail across the room. 

  
  


“Goddammit!” Great! How was he going to pick it all up now and make sure the children didn’t find out? He grabbed the arms of the wheelchair and shook it for all his worth. The padded arm cushion came off in his grasp. He looked daggers at it and flung it across the room with an angry, frustrated roar. It narrowly missed the television and embedded itself in an opening of the air conditioning vent. 

  
  


“Fuuuccckkkk!” Dean did a double take. 

  
  


He ran his hands up and down his face and through his hair. He wheeled over to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He could figure a way to pick up all the mail, but there was no way he’d be able to get up and pull the armrest out of the air vent. He poured himself a second shot. He noticed that the ornate scrolled antique reproduction vent now looked like it had two eyes and a tongue sticking out. As he glared at the air vent, he heard a car door. 

  
  


Putting down the empty shot glass he rolled over to the door and quickly tried to think of how to apologize or at least thank the doctor. It was the least the man deserved for taking care of Miracle. Not every person would do what he did for a muddied, possibly stray, dog scratching at their door on a rainy night.

  
  


Dean pulled open the door and immediately was set upon by his very happy, very clean and fresh smelling girl. He caught a glimpse of the doctor over the top of the fluffy head. He saw a somewhat somber face, eyes dark, break into a soft and tender smile. The stormy dark eyes lit to a brilliant blue, then grew dark again with a seeming sadness or disappointment as Castiel looked down. Miracle’s tongue came up to lick his mouth and nose, and the doctor’s face was hidden from his view. 

  
  


“Alright. Alright, girl.” Dean’s voice broke as he hugged her to him. “Let’s let the doc in so we can give him a proper thank you.” He began to try push Miracle towards the floor as he heard the car door close and engine crank. Dean waved to try to catch his eye and thank him, but Castiel drove off and never looked his way. Strangely, it left him feeling very empty. He pulled Miracle close again and hugged her for all his worth.

  
  


Dean let Miracle down and rolled over towards the pile of mail. He directed her to pick up some of the pieces until she got the main piece he was concerned about. He went to the kitchen and got out a fresh can of dog food. He looked at the bowl on the floor and shook his head. He could probably reach it easier if it weren’t in the little alcove. He was in no mood the try to wheel into the small space. He reached in a drawer and grabbed a small cooking pot, filled it with water and placed it out for Miracle. He took one of the plates out of the dish drainer, dumped out the contents of the can and placed it on the floor. Miracle ate a small amount as he watched, but she must have been well-fed by the Doc, because she did not seem too interested in finishing it.

  
  


Dean rolled to the back of the house to his office, Miracle closely at his side. He just managed to squeak by around his desk, rolling the desk chair away in front of him. He switched on his computer. Tossing the letter down, he turned and began pulling files from the filing cabinet behind the desk. Miracle lay down nearby, watching. Once he had all the possible files he thought he needed, he stacked them on the desk, logged into his business account, and began to sort through everything. 

  
  


After an hour and a half, he still could not figure out what he was missing. He knew from experience not to call the bank to rant over something he was unsure he was in the right or wrong about, and this time he did not have Lisa to smooth over ruffled feathers he had left behind. And then it hit him. Lisa.

  
  


He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands down over his mouth and chin. Lisa had to go in and smooth over the harsh words he spewed at the bank manager. And even thereafter, the man had said he really preferred to deal with her over the farm and wedding business. Dean could handle his personal bank accounts with any other teller or the assistant bank manager, but in the future, he’d prefer to only deal with Lisa on the business end of things. Dean was fine with that. He saw the veiled fear in the man’s eyes when he and Dean had argued over discrepancies. He’d always felt that Marvin M. Etatron was a scruffy little man who liked to rub in, and hold with an iron fist, any perceived power he held over anyone. Dean could never understand how Lisa could stand working with him or how she always seemed to get him to help her out. 

  
  


Dean slammed his hand down on the desk. Miracle came forward and lay her head in his lap. 

  
  


“I’m sorry, girl. I’m OK.’ He reached down and hugged her and pet her for a short period. She stayed with her head in his lap. He began rifling through the desk, the files, the safe. Nothing. He called the bank. He needed to set up a meeting with Marvin. Too late. They had closed for the day. He had completely forgotten it was Saturday. Well, nothing he could do about that now. He pulled out his phone and set an alarm for first thing Monday morning. He absentmindedly rubbed Miracle’s head. If this foreclosure letter had any teeth, he’d need his lawyer. 

  
  


Almost seven years ago, Dean got a very excited call from Sam. He’d been offered a junior partnership at the large firm in Topeka he’d been at for only a few years. He had happily accepted. After a short time in the position, Sam was even planning on moving to the main corporate office in Wichita. Though he missed seeing Sam as often as he used to, and the move to Wichita would put him farther away, Dean was so proud of his brother, and his continuing success. 

  
  


Not long after Sam informed his brother that he was starting to pack for the Wichita move, Dean’s wife, Lisa, was diagnosed with an inoperable terminal brain tumor. Sam had changed his life around to be here for him, Lisa and the, then, eight year old twins as they struggled with the inevitable. Dean did not know what he’d have done or how he would have made it through it all without Sam.

  
  


It was the morning of the twin’s eighth birthday, one of those beautiful May mornings where the sky is a vast cloudless swath of blue and sunshine. Lisa was prepping the newly completed farmhouse they’d labored over the past four years for the party. She’d been having dizzy spells and headaches off and on for the past month, but they’d put it down to overwork and late nights. They’d been trying to finish the last of the finish work and decorating in the farmhouse renovation, while also working at The Old Stone Barn.

  
  


The Old Stone Barn was the oldest barn in the county and on the adjacent farm. Dean had been eyeing the land for a few years, even before the twins were born, hoping to add that land to theirs in order to grow more Christmas trees, pumpkins and corn for the corn maze. But Lisa had fallen in love with the barn, she had a dream of making it into a wedding and special events venue. For over three years they’d tried to coax the old man to sell it, but he would not budge. Then, June day they were driving back from Dallas, where they attended a friend’s wedding, and took a side trip to take the children, who were then six years old, to Six Flags Amusement Park. As they neared their home, they came up their road from the opposite way that they usually went on a daily basis, and they saw the For Sale sign. The old man had died and his city dwelling children had no interest in the farm. They were soon proud owners of the good-sized acreage, the small farmhouse, old stone barn, several outbuildings, and a pond.

  
  


They moved the house onto their original land and began the process to add it to their farmhouse, which was taking a lot longer than expected. After the initial house move, setting on the new foundation and tie in to their existing home, they eventually decided to put finishing the inside of it on the back burner for a while until they got the barn renovated, and the business up and running. They removed a few out buildings around the barn that were in poor condition, and began converting the barn to a special events venue immediately. Dean was working at the firehouse full time, doing renovations in his off time, helped by Benny and Lee. It was almost six months before the barn transformation was complete, and up and running for events.

  
  


Dean was glad to see Lisa happy. She’d had a long road of health issues during her pregnancy that required she spend the last trimester of her pregnancy on bed rest. She barely survived the near fatal delivery of the twins, who thankfully, were born perfectly healthy. It took her almost two years to fully recover from the pregnancy and delivery, and even afterwards, she had off days. Dean was understanding and took on almost all of the responsibilities in the first few months. They were also blessed with a great support system of friends and family. Twins! He never knew how difficult and exhausting it could be to take care of children, but twins? He remembered long nights on little sleep, and he was healthy. He admired Lisa’s strength and endurance to heal while being a mom.

  
  


The Old Stone Barn was doing well immediately after opening. Lisa taught yoga during the weekdays and had mini meditation retreats to help the business get off the ground in the beginning, drawing clients from five different towns around them. They had four weddings, seven receptions, and four miscellaneous parties the first year. They used the barn for holiday events as well. During the Christmas season, when people came to cut their own trees, they served hot chocolate, had pictures with Santa, hay rides, and sleigh rides when it snowed. Halloween and Thanksgiving saw them ushering in the fall with Pick Your Pumpkin, Haunted Hay Rides, games, trick or treating for the kids as well pictures with autumn themed backdrops. Their big attraction was the corn maze. The dream was coming along nicely.

  
  


Then, came the day of the twins eighth birthday, and Lisa was dizzier than she had been. She said she felt like she was walking on an incline the entire morning and by late afternoon near the end of the party, she fell and couldn’t get up by herself. Thankfully, all of the children and most of the guests were outside. 

  
  


The local doctor was immediately concerned and sent them to a specialist in Wichita. The diagnosis was quick and bleak. Grade 4 Glioblastoma. Six months to a year, if lucky.

  
  


“…if lucky.” What was that? Lucky was a mother of two maybe living for a year? They got three second opinions, all the same. The second one was that it was worse than the previous specialist had let on. It had metastasized and if she made it six months, that was a gift. Dean was ready to go to the ends of the earth to find another doctor that would give them a different opinion, a better opinion. Lisa convinced him that there was no better opinion, just his wishful thinking. She didn’t want to spend the last months of her life searching for the answer they wanted, the answer they knew deep down would never come. 

  
  


Dean went into a sort of autopilot. He wanted to let go of the wheel and let the car go off the cliff, but he had to little ones that would need him. For four and a half weeks following their final consultation, Lisa was still able to get around on her own, hold her children, speak normally, laugh. One morning Dean woke up. The sun was just coming up, but the sky looked like it was going to be a bleak day. He just wanted to put the covers over his head and go back into the dream he was having of the four of them on their one and only ski trip, but he felt the bed shaking intermittently. Finally, coming fully awake, he rolled over to see that Lisa was having a seizure.

  
  


Things went swiftly downhill from there. Five weeks after her first seizure, Lisa was no longer mobile on her own and had difficulty getting her hands and arms to do simple tasks. She spent her time just being with the children and eventually just watching them. She was on home hospice care within another three weeks and could barely speak coherently. She’d go catatonic for minutes at a time that became increasingly longer periods. 

  
  


Four months, two weeks and three days from her first diagnosis, Lisa was gone.

  
  
  


Dean stared at the letter.

  
  


90 Days

  
  


He needed to call Sam.


	8. Thursdays

Dean hung up the phone. He needed a drink. Sam went from incredulous to angry, to angry with Dean, to apologetic and back to angry again when Dean told him about the foreclosure. In the end, he reassured Dean that he would help him get to the bottom of it. The conversation ended with Sam vowing that somehow they would come up with the funds to help Dean save the farm.

  
  


He’d spoken with Ben briefly, but Emma was in the shower. They were both still feeling unwell, but neither had a temperature that morning. Emma was able to eat dry toast, and juice without nausea. Ben, who insisted he was starving and wanted eggs, toast and sausage, promptly lost it all fifteen minutes into eating. Ben grumbled about wanting to go home, but not wanting to go back to school. His last concern was that he really wanted to see Miracle and was happy she’d been found. Then he had passed the phone back to Sam.

  
  


“Well, Miracle, seems like you come ahead of me on the ‘Who Is Missed Most’ scale,” Dean laughed as she padded along behind him into the great room. He was so happy to have her back. Just having her in the room with him calmed him. Even when Sam blew up and started yelling at him about how he handled his finances, it did not phase him as much as he knew it would have if Miracle had not been there.

  
  


He grabbed the shot glass, filled it and sniffed the amber liquid, petting his girl’s scruff. He remembered that she no longer had her collar and he wondered where it had gone. She’d lost her collar the last time she’d run off like that, too. He really needed to thank the Doc. He wasn’t good at making grand gestures, or even giving much more than a simple thanks, but this was about his girl, his lifeline. If nothing else _she_ deserved the acknowledgment of his gratefulness to the doctor, Castiel. Castiel? It was an intriguingly unique name.

  
  


Throwing his head back, he downed the contents of his glass and frowned as his eye caught the wheelchair armrest sticking out of the air vent. He put the glass down shaking his head at the result of his own temper. He had gotten better when the twins were born, but it came back with a vengeance after Lisa left them. He tended to restrain himself when the kids were around, but they’d been a witness to it more than once. Ben tended to internalize it and behave the same way, while Emma called Dean out on it. He had to do better for his children’s sake.

  
  


“No, you have to do better for your own sake,” he said aloud, repeating what Lisa had told him so many times during their life together. “Focus on the good,” the family grief counselor always said. Since it was Saturday, he couldn’t do anything about the foreclosure today, but he could do more than sit around being angry.

  
  


“OK, I’ll try to do better,” he spoke to the air vent face with its armrest tongue sticking out at him. “I will do better.” He grabbed a cookie from the box of pastries that Castiel had brought over and thought about a way to thank him. “I’ll focus on the good, starting with you, Mirry. I’ll try to do something good for the person who was kind enough to take care of you.”

  
  


Dean always tried to take care of and help out his friends and family, and he had extended that loving care to his adopted town when he moved to Cottonwood Falls. He was not a rich man, but he was good with his hands, had developed good friendships with many of the people in the small town as well as in the sister town just a few minutes north. He liked people, never minded lending a helping hand, and people liked returning the favors. He was easygoing and tried giving people the benefit of the doubt, until he found out different about their characters. 

  
  


After Lisa’s diagnosis, he helped deal with the last two booked events scheduled at The Old Stone Barn before her death, and final three afterwards. It was when he was still on “autopilot “ and was able to get things done without too much thought. He had the help of Ellen, Jo and Ash, who were used to dealing with small events and crowds at their bar, as well as Pamela. He had Sam, his grandmother Deanna, Garth and Bess Fitzgerald and a multitude of others helping with the twins and Lisa. He knew he had so much help from so many people that he’d never be able to thank them all, and most likely would never know all those to whom he would always feel indebted. However, Dr. NoWay was different.

  
  


After Lisa’s death, Dean was done having weddings, receptions and other events. Done, except for his original farm and holiday events that did not include The Old Stone Barn— Where the Stars are Always Out and Dreams Come True. Dean had let the Old Stone Barn sit vacant, stars be damned. They did not help with his dreams coming true. He couldn’t stand going there or looking at the building. It only brought heaviness to his soul.

  
  


So, when Adam told him about the sale of the hospital clinic to a corporation that had plans on making it the main healthcare facility of the county, Dean thought he could turn it into a rental house for any corporate people and medical professionals that would be moving to town. That way, at least it’d be lived in, and somewhat taken care of. He had no interest in it, and wouldn’t have cared if it burned to the ground, except for the fact that he was the custodian of the historic building that the people of the town were proud of. 

  
  


There were few restrictions set on how he renovated the interior, because it’d been changed so many times throughout its history. The major stipulation was that the outside and structural outer walls, windows and door openings remain unchanged. Porch, patio, carport coverings or garages must not be attached to or change the existing exterior surface of the structure. Dean had little work to do inside to change it from the special events facility into a livable residential home. It was already outfitted with a spacious kitchen, fireplace, two downstairs restrooms and two upstairs as well. The upstairs also had four other rooms that were easily reconfigured to three bedrooms with closets, one a master bedroom with an attached bath.

  
  


He just had a couple week’s worth of work left, before the new doctor would be moving in, when the town’s only doctor was killed in a head on collision with a semi truck while he was driving between Cottonwood Falls and the neighboring town’s clinic. The timeline was changed and Dean had to complete it before the end of the week, so he, Lee and Benny had been working double time to get it done, on top of Dean’s previous week-on at the firehouse. He had worked himself to exhaustion and was warned that he needed to take a break. Well, here he was. Not the kind of break he needed.

  
  


Once again, his bad luck had come on a Thursday. His life seemed like a string of good, broken by terrible, life changing Thursdays. He really couldn’t remember the first bad Thursday he ever had, but the first one he ever remembered was when he was not yet a teenager and was watching his younger brother. Sammy decided he was going to fly like Superman and jumped off a roof, breaking his arm. Dean had to bike it all the way to the hospital, broken-armed Sammy on his handlebars.

  
  


Another time, his mother and father had split up for a while, and his mom had left to “figure things out,” leaving them with their father whose way of coping was drinking to excess and leaving them alone for days or weeks on end. Their pantry was empty and the grocery money had run out, so Dean tried pilfering some bread and peanut butter from the local convenience store for Sam to have something in his belly. Getting caught was not so bad, but it was the reaction of his dad that did him in. “Let him rot.” Thanks, dad. The sheriff took “pity” on him and sent him to a home for wayward boys where he spent two months before his dad decided to come get him. He always thought it was more that John needed a babysitter for Sammy than that he cared about what happened to him.

  
  


Then, came the bad car accident when he, his father and brother were T-boned by a semi. He’d coded twice before eventually making a full recovery. While he was recovering, he slowly worked on rebuilding the old Impala that his dad had bought even before John and Mary had married. His dad told him he was the biggest sort of fool to think it could be repaired, but John, thankfully, never sent it to the junkyard, and let Dean do what he wanted. Dean worked on the car for almost a year before she was finished. He and John got in an argument afterwards when Dean went out to the parking lot after school one day to find the Impala missing. Turns out John decided he wanted it back, and just came and took it. No explanations, no care as to how he and Sammy would get back home from school that day. For once, his mom took his side, and though John stormed out and left for two weeks, he didn’t take the Impala with him. He never looked at the car again, except to berate Dean once in a while over some minute perceived blemish on the Impala’s finish.

  
  


Thursday was the day years later, after enlisting in the Marines, when in Afghanistan, Dean was out on patrol with his 9 man squad. He sent his three man fire team out in advance recon, the other six of them fanned out and were set upon by the enemy. The three advanced troops were killed instantly. Two of the six escaped, but four, including Dean, were gunned down and captured. Those four were kept alive to be stabbed, beaten, burned and tortured for weeks. Dean often woke up hearing their screams in his ears only to realize the screams were coming from him. Thankfully, the two that escaped, one of whom was Benny, came back with reinforcements and were able to save Dean and one of his men. That man was never the same, and took his life soon after going home.

  
  


It was a long arduous road for Dean to come back from. He went through untold amounts of medication, therapies and alcohol before he was given a service dog. That first dog, The Colonel, a German shepherd, was a godsend. Though he’d never been much of a dog person, that dog saved his life. Soon after, when he was once again feeling more human than possessed by demons, he met Lisa. He could not say he was ever really “in love” with her, but he did love her. She gave him a sense of stability, strength, normalcy and peace. She gave him more of what he’d always heard a true “home” meant and could be.

  
  


Before Lisa, he’d been wandering aimlessly, working as a mechanic or in construction, hustling pool, having one night stands with any pretty or handsome face to come along, including his old friend from high school, Lee. At first, he thought it’d be the same with Lisa, but she was steadfast and even. She was patient and peaceful when he was fire and anger. She was calm and soothing when he was tumultuous chaos and pain. He fell into the routine of real life and stability with her. He secretly clung to what he would’ve formerly called “the boring, humdrum existence of the everyday.”

  
  


They made real plans together, moved to this idyllic small town, bought the farm, planted acres of Christmas pines, corn and pumpkins. They began building a life that rarely included midnight screams, smell of blood, and visions of his hands forced to do unspeakable things to his own men. Eventually, they found out they were going to have twins. Dean decided that the normal course of action for most people would be to ask Lisa to marry him. They were married at the parish church of her hometown, where her disapproving parents still lived. Life seemed to get better and better. They went on vacations, made fast, true friends, bought the second farm, and expanded their business.

  
  


Then came the Thursday of the diagnosis and the Thursday of her death. Dean’s life reverted to semi-chaos, nightmares and desperation again, but this time he had the anchor of his twins to keep him steady, to keep him from sailing over the edge of the earth, even though once in a while, he’d get closer to that edge than he’d like to admit. Miracle had been there for him though. Miracle, who had come to them, as a puppy, when The Colonel was still alive. Mirry, who trained to become a service dog when they noticed she was mothering the twins, and The Colonel as he aged. Miracle learned quickly, whether it was due to learning from Colonel or natural mothering instincts. Dean loved her even through her disappearances that would have invalidated her service dog designation had anyone ever found out.

  
  


So, now it was down to this past Thursday. The day the foreclosure letter arrived, though he was unaware until today. Thursday, the day he broke his leg, working to accommodate and make comfortable the doctor he’d heard not-so-nice things about. 

Whatever he did to thank the doc for caring for Miracle, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t on a Thursday.


	9. Eyes of a Lion

Sam really was not interested in an “adult erotic confectionery shop,” but he promised Emma and Ben, if they were both able to keep their lunch down and feeling up to it, he’d buy them gelato. He had to wonder what kind of lunatic moves to a small town that has no ice cream parlor to open a sweet shop for adults only? Why would you not open a family store here? Or how ‘bout an adult sweets shop in a bigger city? How many customers would this business actually attract in a small town?

  
  


It turned out it was a lot. Sam had to park down the street past the courthouse. Saturdays were usually busy on Broadway Street, but between the art gallery having a new opening, the normal tourists in town for the weekend, and the crowd at the new ice cream store, parking was at a minimum. Surprisingly, though there were at least twelve customers, he only recognized a couple of faces in the little sweet shop. Sam was glad to see that the new store was doing a brisk business.

  
  


The town had lost its only confectionery almost a year ago when the owner found it more lucrative to open up shop in Emporia, a small city of 25,000 some twenty miles to the east. Sam had watched many businesses in Cottonwood Falls close up shop in recent years and it had concerned him, for the people of the town, his own law office, but also for Dean’s farm. So many small towns had been losing businesses, and thus, population, causing more people to exodus small towns for bigger cities. It was a downwards spiral that doomed many small towns to disappear. But Cottonwood Falls seemed to have a remarkable resilience and ability to have the empty spaces filled by new and ever changing business establishments. What the town lacked in long term businesses, it made up for in variety.

  
  


Sam made his way over to the ice cream counter, only slightly paying attention to the many candies and baked goods along the way. Just the mouthwatering aroma of the multitude of baked goods would entice Dean to be a customer as soon as he walked in the door, but the humor and artistry of the risqué confections would doom him as a customer for life. Sam could imagine the myriad of expressions that would cross Dean’s face on entering the establishment. 

  
  


Sam took a number and perused the case freezer and labels of the flavors available. Though Ben said he wanted a banana split, Sam thought it was a bit heavy for one who’d been having trouble keeping food down. He had told them they could have gelatos, instead of the heavier ice cream. 

  
  


Sam began to browse around after he made his flavor decisions, while waiting for his number to come up. There were two clerks waiting on the customers. One he recognized as a young kid he’d come to know as “the weird kid named Sam,” as Dean called him. The other was a small man with almost shoulder length golden brown hair. He had a mouth that seemed to have a built in smile of secret knowing and amusement. His eyes though. Sam had never seen such an intriguing eye color. Golden brown with a tint of amber in sunlight. Eyes like a lion on the Savannah in Africa. Fierce, proud and secretive. 

“Forty-two?’

  
  


Sam wondered if the lighting had something to do with the color of those eyes looking so dramatically beautiful. They seemed to have a darker outline, framing the dancing golden brown of the irises. He’d have to be closer to tell though. He watched as the man with the secret smile, golden mane and glowing amber eyes joked with the customers. It seemed like the eye color darkened and brightened with each word and smile until the eyes were just a swirling mass of golden brown, swirling amber and flecks of a deep sienna.

  
  


“Forty-two! Please, check your numbers. Forty-two?” Samandriel was on tiptoes looking for the customer holding ticket number forty-two.

  
  


Oh, s-sorry, that’s me,” Sam came forward holding up his number. 

  
  


“Oh, good day, sir. How can I help you? Would you like to try a Threesome Banana Split or some Fudge Nipple?” Samdriel’s blue eyes smiled at him.

  
  


“Oh, no thank you. I’ll have two cups of gelato. One raspberry and one mint chocolate. No. You know what? Make that three. I think I’ll try some of the strawberry one myself.” Sam said with a wry grin.

“Would you like to be topped? Squirt of Jizz Cream or we have Moist Glaze?” Samdriel said with a suggestive tone incongruent with the seeming innocence of his boyish face.

  
  


Sam thought for a second trying to process the sexual terms into terms of food flavors. He didn't think any creams or extra sauces would be a good idea until the twins were feeling better.

  
  


“No, thanks. Just the plain gelatos.” 

  
  


“OK. That’ll be three cups of gelato. One Berry Legal Raspberry, one Berry Legal Strawberry and one Hint of Mint Choco-lot. All Playing It Safe. That’s plain,” the young clerk whispered with a wink.

  
  


Sam smiled and nodded. He wasn’t sure if the names amused him or somewhat grossed him out.

  
  


He moved away from the counter a bit and bent to admire the creative array of cookies and cupcakes in the bakery case. He had to hand it to whoever was the genius behind the designs and decorating of the confections, everything was beautifully done and displayed. It all looked, and smelled delicious, if one were inclined to eat sweets. Obviously, it had been tempting enough for Sam to order something for himself. He suddenly noticed those golden lion’s eyes staring back at him through the tray of bear claws and turnovers. He just stared right back. There was a darker ring around the edge of the golden brown.

  
  


“Excuse me. Number forty-two, sir?” Sam stood and pulled out his wallet as he stepped back over to the ice cream counter. “That’ll be thirteen eighty-two.’

Sam paid and made his way towards the exit. He glanced over to see if he might catch Lion Eyes' gaze again, but the man had his back to the counter folding a box for a customer’s donut order. Sam thought he might have to come to the Sweet Spot again very soon.


	10. Lion’s Mane

Gabriel was happy. The Sweet Spot hadn’t even officially opened yet and he had been busy each day. He was quite enthused at how busy they’d been this morning though. He knew from experience that he could make this business successful, but he was unsure how successful it might be in such a small town. He’d much preferred to sink his money into this business in a larger, more diverse city. Yet, everyday this town surprised him. Most of the citizens he’d encountered were much more progressive than he would’ve thought for an old, seemingly traditional, midwest small town. 

  
  


Ever since Meg had died, he’d vowed to be there for Castiel and the twins. The first six months Gabriel lived with them, and Balthazar and Anna were there every day. Nevertheless, it was Gabriel who became akin to the twins’ surrogate second parent. After Castiel’s dressing down and demotion, Gabriel knew that though they would be leaving the city, they’d not be leaving alone. So, he decided to open his business here, in this remote small town, rather than the city where he was sure it’d be a real success. He wasn’t going to let his little brother, with the twins, embark on this exile on his own.

  
  


Gabriel had already had plans to open the Sweet Spot. He’d bought much of the equipment, drawn up a list menu of items, tested out 90% of his recipes, and had drawn up his logo. He had even picked out two locations he was trying to decide on when Castiel told him the news of his imminent exile. He decided then and there to move his business to whatever place his brother was to move.

  
  


Castiel was given two months to await his replacement, get packed, and move. Gabriel was ready to make his move now. He hired the local realtor, packed up his apartment, shipped his equipment to the town and had moved in in less than three weeks. The town had lost a few hundred in population over the past decade and a half, but recently had been going through a population uptick. This news made Gabriel feel a bit more confident in his shop’s ability for success. He worked tirelessly with a local carpenter, and the fresh-faced young man, Samandriel, who happened by one day and started a conversation. Gabriel hired him that evening after the boy had stayed most of the day and helped him and the carpenter out without a thought for payment. 

  
  


He made finding Castiel and the twins a nice homey place his top priority after finding himself a location for his shop, with an attached apartment. He really was not satisfied with any of the older established homes as the majority of them were in sore need of renovations and updating them into the 21st century, just as he was doing with his over-store apartment. They had pretty much run out of local options and the realtor, Robin, was to start showing him places in Strong City, the sister town eight minutes north of Cottonwood Falls.

  
  


One day Robin sent pictures of a former event space that she said the owner had contacted her about putting on the rental market. It was to go through modest renovations to accommodate a family and would be ready in a month and a half. He went to see it the next day. Gabriel saw the rooftop, then the second floor, and then the first floor and the stars came into view as he came up over the small rise. Immediately knew this would be the place. There was just a feeling. He knew this was the place his brother belonged, even before he saw the inside. He got in touch with Castiel that night to set the wheels in motion.

Smiling, Gabriel surveyed his establishment as his eyes roamed over the customers. “Let’s hope this lasts.” He said to himself as he stuff some bills into the register.

  
  


He handed the customer their change and passed their box of Berry Legal Filled Donut Holes to them.

  
  


“Enjoy!” He beamed. 

  
  


The bell at the door jangled again and he glanced over at Samandriel to see if the next customer was a local or not. He and Samandriel had a running bet on if they were going to have more tourists or locals this morning. Samandriel shook his head. 

“Local,” he laughed.

  
  


Gabriel turned to see if he could spy the local over the heads of the customers in front of the pastry counter. He had no trouble seeing this particular local. Gabriel stopped putting Apple Bend-overs into the box he’d been filling, to watch the giant of a man walk tentatively into the shop. He licked his lips as he watched the tall, chestnut-haired Adonis look around the store. The lush mane was rippling with golden caramel highlights as the overhead spotlights hit from different angles. Gabriel tiptoed as he tried to see around the customers. The bell over the door jangled as the previous customer exited.

  
  


Gabriel remembered what he was supposed to be doing and continued filling the box with the Bend-overs. He really had to find out who tall, tousled, and handsome was.

But he wasn’t even sure he  _ was _ handsome yet. He hadn’t seen his face, or the rest of him. For all he knew, he could have black teeth and a pot belly. He was in a confectionery after all. Gabriel laughed at himself insulting himself. He turned to the back wall to fold up another box for an order of Cream Filled Topped Donut Holes.

  
  


Between customers now, Gabriel searched for the tall local. He found him in front of Samandriel’s freezer case. This time, though he could only see his profile, he could definitely see that he was as handsome as the promise of that luxurious hair led him to believe. He had a hard time seeing the entire face, but he was sure it was going to be something to see.

  
  


“Welcome to Gabriel’s Sweet Spot,” he said to his next customer, “I’m Gabriel. What can I do for you?”

  
  


Gabriel turned to prep a small box for Boobies and Bunz cookies. He went over, slid open the cookie case door, bent to the case, and looked between the Daddy Bear Claws and Bend-overs towards the cookies he needed. He noticed a customer peering through the case right at him. It took him a second to realize the hazel eyes belonged to the lion-maned giant. He couldn’t bring himself to move and just stared back. The man’s eyes were a blue green color with flecks of deep brown and amber, practically glowing in the light from the case. Suddenly, he turned his head and went back to the ice cream counter.

  
  


Gabriel calmed his racing heart, quickly grabbed the cookies ordered, and turned back to fold another small cookie box. He heard the doorbell jangle and knew, somewhat sadly, that Lion’s Mane had left the shop. Gabriel smiled, remembering that he was a local. There would be plenty of opportunities to run into him later.

  
  



	11. Small Town

Castiel pulled the car into an angled parking spot in front of the post office, a mid-century modern building of slender tan native limestone bricks and teal glass tile accents. He was surprised that there was no parking closer to the Chase County Historical Society Museum. For such a small town, it certainly had a bustling “downtown” area. He had plans to register for both a personal P.O. Box and one under his physician’s credentials, as well as pick up a few shipping boxes to mail some local items back home to Anna and Balthazar as gifts. It would’ve been nice if the post office was still open. However, he’d spent more time at his patient’s house than he’d planned, and just missed operating hours. He figured he’d just register online and pick up the shipping boxes another day.

  
  


Claire and Jack had already headed down the sidewalk towards the museum a block away on the opposite corner across the street. Castiel walked briskly to catch up. 

“Dad, I want to stop by this store after the museum,” Claire said as she took a quick peek in the windows of the Prairie Pleasures Arts & Crafts and Antiques Store. “They have jewelry and hats and scarves. Maybe not everything is so provincial in this town.”

  
  


“OK, Belle,” Jack teased. “If you’re not careful you’re going to run into a Gaston, if you keep acting like that!”

  
  


“Ew! This place is probably full of Gastons! I’d rather run into another like-minded Belle.”

  
  


“What? You think even a Beast from this town lives a too provincial life?” Jack’s face looked crestfallen.

  
  


“I don’t know, but we are in the middle of Bumfuck Egypt.”

  
  


“Claire! Language!” Castiel reprimanded. “Swear jar will be awaiting a feeding when we get home. I don’t want to hear that you don’t have enough to buy something today because of it either.” He gave her a stern look and waved to usher them across the street.

  
  


“Besides, I’ve told you both not to go around disparaging the town we have to live in for the foreseeable future. People are not going to take kindly to you if you insult where they live, or whether or not you find this place a backwater dump.” Castiel was a bit agitated. “Either way, I’ve told you before, I have to care for the people of this town, so eventually, I’ll likely meet at least 90% of them. I don’t need any of them coming to me with a grudge because they think my daughter has a superior attitude and a chip on her shoulder. Do you understand, Claire? Jack?”

  
  


“Yes, sir!” Jack said with a slight giggle as he turned and stepped up on the curb. “Your mouth always gets you in trouble.” He elbowed Claire.

  
  


“Dad!” Claire exclaimed loudly.

  
  


“Claire, I don’t want to hear any more! I’m done with your attitude.”

  
  


“No, Dad, your nose is bleeding!”

  
  


“What? Oh, this is the second time…” Castiel tilted his head back and put his fingers to his nose. “I don’t even have a tissue.” He could feel the blood drop sliding down his upper lip and heading towards his cheek.

  
  


Jack and Claire stood by watching their father trying to stop the bleeding. “Why don’t you carry a purse with tissues? Most girls have purses full of all sorts of handy things!”

  
  


“God, Jack! I don’t want to carry a purse! Why don’t you carry a purse? You’re the one always dragging around bags! Laptop, notebooks, water, pencils and novels.”

  
  


“Do you two really have to do this while I stand here with my head in the air? Could one of you find me a tissue or nap…”

  
  


“Napkin, Doc?”

  
  


Castiel recognized the distinctive accent. Turning, he saw Benny Lafitte, ice cream in hand from Gabriel’s Sweet Spot and a handful of small napkins.

  
  


“I’m not a sloppy eater, so I’m not gonna need all these.” Benny offered with a charismatic grin.

  
  


“Oh, yes, I’d truly appreciate it.” Castiel nodded.

  
  


“Then allow me,” Benny drawled and set his cup of ice cream on the windowsill of the museum. He took one of the napkins and wiped the blood dripping down the side of Castiel’s cheek while placing a gentle finger and thumb under his chin looking Castiel in the eye the entire time. He handed a second napkin to the doctor.

  
  


Castiel took the napkin and pressed it to his nose. The other man did not step back. Even through the nosebleed, he could smell the clean fresh scent of woodsy soap and hint of a light leathery, amber-scented cologne. The sky blue eyes were twinkling with amused concern and …interest? Benny stood by him, hand on his shoulder, until he felt he could hold his head straight without more blood dripping out. Benny’s hand lingered on his shoulder an instant longer than necessary.

  
  


“There ya go, Doc. Better?” Smiling, Benny gave a single pat to his shoulder and took a slight step back.

  
  


Castiel checked the napkin, dabbed his nose and checked the napkin again. He returned the smile.

  
  


“Castiel, please. And thank you. Really. I think you saved my shirt.”

  
  


“Always willing to help a damsel in distress, Castiel.” Benny winked with a laugh.

  
  


“I appreciate it.” Castiel, gave a brief laugh back. Looking into Benny’s crystal blue depths, he could understand the comments and stares he always seemed to receive regarding his own eyes. They we’re definitely something to look at.

  
  


“So, Dean told me you had found his dog and returned her. He was mighty happy when I talked to him earlier.” Benny still did not take his eyes off of Castiel’s eyes.

  
  


“Yes, she had come scratching at my door the first night I was here, during that thunderstorm. She was soaking wet and muddy. I took her in, bathed her and let her stay the night. She was very attentive and slept with her chin on me all night.”

  
  


“Miracle is a good dog. She’s Dean’s second service dog, and though she’s gone AWOL once before, she’s the only one he wants and she still does a mighty fine job.”

Benny nodded. “Dean had a rough time when we did our tour in Afghanistan. A really rough time. Mine was no piece of cake, but Dean went through some things, so he really needs her. I owe you one for taking such good care of her and him.”

  
  


“It’s not anything anyone else wouldn’t do.” Castiel shook his head at the compliment.

  
  


“Nah, I insist. He’s special to me and, well, you’re new in town anyways. I figure you could use a few local friends.” 

  
  


“You’re right about that. The only person I know in town besides my new coworkers and the few patients I’ve seen, are my brother, who owns the Sweet Spot and my children,” he inclined his head towards them. 

  
  


“Claire. Jack. This is Mr. Benny…”

  
  


“Lafitte. Benny Lafitte.” He put his hand out and shook Jack’s and Claire’s hand in turn.

  
  


“Mr. Lafitte.” Jack said as he returned the handshake.

  
  


“Nah, just Benny will be fine if you would like. We’re not a formal town. But whatever you feel more comfortable with.” He finished as he shook Claire’s hand.

  
  


“Well, I’m going to let you three get on with your day. But I’d really like to take you out for a beer or a couple drinks, maybe dinner one night, as a thank you.” He reached out to shake Castiel’s hand and covered it with his other hand as the handshake ended.

  
  


“I appreciate that. I’m not saying I’ll let you pay, but I’d like that, yes.” Castiel smiled back, feeling a bit of heat rising to his cheeks.

  
  


“Alright. Might I get your number then? Or would you just prefer I give you mine? I don’t want to be pushy or force my hospitality upon you.” Benny winked at Castiel with a flirty smile.

  
  


Castiel felt his cheeks get warmer. With a nervous smile, he pulled his phone out.

  
  


“Not at all. We can exchange both.” His palms we’re feeling a bit moist and his heart was beating a mile a minute. Was this a date date? Did he actually just get picked up by a man? In front of his children?! He needed to relax, because it seems like the last two nosebleeds he had, occurred when his heart rate increased.

  
  


The two men traded numbers and put their phones away. 

  
  


“OK, then, Doc. Castiel,” he corrected himself. “Here. Just in case you get another nose bleed.” He handed Castiel the rest of the napkins he was holding.

  
  


“Ever since Mr. Winchester punched me in the nose that second morning in the hospital, it’s bled randomly. It just needs a bit more healing. Capillaries are very close to the surface in the nasal passages and easily injured.”

  
  


“What? I knew Dean was having issues, but I didn’t really think he’d punch you over anything.” Benny shook his head, placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at Castiel’s nose. “I hope he didn’t do much damage or hurt you too much? Now, I’m definitely sure I owe you one. And more than just a couple of beers. Taking a punch from Dean Winchester and still treating him makes you a saint in my book —unless of course, you deserved it for some reason I could not fathom.” 

  
  


“No, no. He was just having a bit of a panic attack and had fallen out of bed. He was just lashing out at anyone nearby. Being I was the one closest as I was picking him up off the floor, my nose happened to be the thing that his fist found. I'm not even sure he was ever aware of it. I saw stars for a second, it bled for a bit, but I was able I to keep right on working to alleviate his anxieties.” Castiel felt himself blushing again. Why did his body have to betray him like this? He felt like he was a kid again asking a girl out on a first date.

  
  


“That deserves a steak dinner, and a night on the town, I’d venture to say!” Benny laughed with a huge smile. “I don’t mean to laugh, but that’s such a Dean Winchester kind of thing.” 

  
  


“Funny, I was thinking it was such a Castiel Novak situation I found myself in.” Cas laughed back.

  
  


“Dad, can we hurry up and go in now? I wanted to see the shop across the street, too.” Claire implored. 

  
  


“Yes, and I want to see the Knute Rockne Studebaker,” Jack agreed.

  
  


“I’m so sorry. I’ve been keeping you from your day. I must say it was a pleasure meeting you two young ones.” Benny tipped his hat at Jack and Claire and picked up his ice cream. “And I will be in touch with you soon, Doc. Castiel.” Benny winked as he walked away. 

  
  


Castiel tilted his head to one side as he watched Benny walk away. He smiled and turned back to Claire and Jack. 

  
  


“OK, let’s go in.” Castiel, smiling, held his hand out to indicate the door.

  
  


“O, my god, Dad, are you finally going to go out on your first date in like three years!” Claire yelled.

  
  


“Shh! What?! No! Wait…” Castiel went from shocked to denial to confusion. He squinted back towards the direction Benny had walked off. He couldn’t deny to his children that he had an attraction to men that he’d only come to truly realize just a few years ago, but he was still unsure if this was an actual invitation for a date or just two friends going out for a dinner. “I…I don’t know.” He answered finally.

  
  


“Can we just go in, now!” Jack begged. “We’ve been out here for 10 minutes.”

  
  


“It’s only been fives minutes, dumbo and I’m happy for Dad!”

  
  


“I’m happy, too. I just want to go see this exhibit before they close!”

  
  


“They don’t close until 5pm!” Claire pointed out at the hours listed on the sign on the wall listing days, hours and admission fees.

  
  


“No, look on the door.” Jack almost whined.

  
  


“Ugh!”

  
  


“We’ll be closing early on Saturday, November 7 (2pm) for weekend building repairs. We’re sorry for any inconvenience this may cause. We are scheduled to resume normal museum hours Monday, November 9. Thank you for your patronage and patience. Chase County Historical Society.” Castiel read.

  
  


“I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t know. It’s alright though. We still have plenty of time. We can go to that section first.” Castiel tried to placate his son. “Besides, even if we don’t get to see it all today, we’ll still be here to enjoy it at a slower pace any other day.”

  
  
  


“I’m going in now!” Jack smiled as he shoved Claire out of his way and opened the door.

  
  


“If you’re not a gentleman, you will not be seeing any of it.”

  
  


“Some old car named after a dead football player can’t be  _ that  _ interesting, dweeb.” Claire shoved him back.

  
  


“Shall we!” Castiel held the door open for Claire.

  
  


They were able to see most of the museum, the Knute Rockne Studebaker, which actually impressed Claire, and the rest of the exhibit about his storied career in the early days of football. They laughed at the woolen uniforms, leather helmets and pads and the oddly different looking football. Claire seemed most fascinated with the portion of the exhibit about the plane crash that, then pilot Rockne, and seven others died in, not far from Cottonwood Falls.

  
  


“Wow! I can’t believe planes used to be essentially made of plywood and still flew in the rain…” Claire scrutinized the old photographs of the wreckage and the illustrations of the horrific plunge to the earth.

  
  


Afterwards, they left the museum they headed towards the Roniger Memorial Museum that they were told was filled with local Native American artifacts and quite informative. It was a block away, nestled behind the imposing Chase County Courthouse. But on limited time they had to pick and choose what to do, and Castiel preferred that they learn some of the history of the town and surrounding areas before school on Monday. There would be plenty of time to go to the art gallery and the several antiques and the crafts shop later.

  
  


“Can we stop by and see Uncle Gabe on the way back?” Jack asked. “I want some ice cream.”

  
  


Castiel held the door open for them as they exited the museum.

  
  


“No, we’re going to head over to the little shop we saw when we first pulled up that Claire wanted to visit, then we’ll have dinner at one of the restaurants. I’ll call Gabriel to see if he might be available to meet us there and have dinner with us.”

  
  


“Then can we get ice cream?” Jack pleaded.

  
  


“We’ll see. Maybe you’d prefer to pick something off of the establishment’s desert menu however. Too much ice cream is not good for you and I know you’ve eaten excessive amounts the last few days.”

  
  


They made their way to the shop Claire had wanted to see, a sort of flea market, craft and antiques cooperative. Claire bought herself some earrings made by a local jeweler. Castiel picked up a pair for his sister Anna. Jack bought a book about local ghost stories and strange history as well as a bottle of local honey. And Castiel bought himself and Gabriel, each a handmade wooden kitchen roller. He also picked up two delicate and extremely soft hand knit bison yarn scarves and some local soaps for Anna and Castiel’s cousin, Balthazar.

  
  


Castiel and the twins placed all their packages in the trunk of the car, locked it up, and began heading over to Kellum Feed and Wine— a local favorite restaurant, just four shops down from Gabriel’s Sweet Spot. Castiel had called Gabriel as they walked from the craft cooperative to the car, and he agreed to meet up with them for dinner. Luckily, they arrived right before the dinner rush and were immediately seated in a corner near the front window.

  
  


The restaurant was fairly large and consisted of two neighboring buildings joined under one roof. One side consisted of the restaurant and kitchen area, while the other side, separated by several doorways cut into the wall, had a bar, small stage and intimate small table seating. The menu was extremely varied, and had nothing but good reviews.

  
  


Castiel ordered a glass of wine and two lemonades for the twins, and ordered the stuffed mushroom appetizer while they waited for Gabriel. They chatted about their day and their favorite parts of the two museums they’d visited while they waited. Eventually Castiel told them they could text with their friends for a while, while they unwound, but as always, phones would get put away as soon as it was family time. Castiel relished the quiet and looked over the menu as he sipped his wine. 

  
  


The door opened and Castiel looked up expecting to see Gabriel, but in walked Benny and the other friend of Dean’s from the hospital. Castiel immediately sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat nervously, which only served to gain the attention of the two who turned to look in his direction.

  
  


“Oh, hiya, Doc.” Lee spoke up first with a wide grin. “Nice to see you again.”

  
  


Castiel stood and nodded. “Nice to see you again as well. I’m sorry, I’ve met so many new people these past few days, your name slips my mind.”

  
  


“No problem, no problem.” Lee came over to shake hands. “Lee. Lee Webb. I’m sure I was most likely remiss in even introducing myself at all.”

  
  


“Castiel Novak.” Castiel shook his hand then indicated his twins, noses buried in screens. “These are my children, Claire and Jack.”

  
  


“Claire. Jack.” He repeated to get their attention. “This is Mr. Lee Webb.”

  
  


They both looked up and said hello, Claire nodding and Jack giving a slight wave.

  
  


“I’ve got to tell you, Doc, how much I appreciate everything you did for Dean.” 

  
  


“Think nothing of it. Besides it being my job, it’s just basic humanity. Looking out for our fellow man.” Castiel bowed his head, uncomfortable with the attention.

  
  


“Well, nonetheless, I just wanted to say thank you.” Lee smiled.

  
  


“Good to see you all again, “ Benny chimed in. “Please, don’t stand on our account.” He nodded to Castiel’s seat.

  
  


Castiel smiled softly as he sat back down. 

  
  


“Do you have any recommendations as to what’s best here?” Castiel asked.

  
  


“That depends on what you’re hungry for,” Lee grinned knowingly and lifted his brow. They make good burgers here, but if you ever want one of the best burgers, let me know. Because I’m the man that makes them. I’m going to have to cook you one of my burgers one day as a show of thanks.” Lee winked at Cas.

  
  


Claire kicked Jack under the table. Though they still mostly had their eyes on their phone screens, they were still paying half-hearted attention to the adult conversation.

  
  


Castiel’s mouth went a bit dry. Was he being hit on again? 

  
  


“Thank you. I’m very busy getting settled in right now, but perhaps someday not too far off, but it’s really not necessary.”

  
  


Benny saved him by interjecting before Lee could push the invite.

  
  


“I, myself, am here for the start of crawfish fish season. Being a Louisiana Boy, I was over the moon when the proprietor of this restaurant put boiled crawfish and boiled shrimp on the menu. Who would’ve thought that in the middle of Kansas, a homesick Cajun-born man like me found out the delicacy had come to me, when I couldn’t get to the delicacy.” Benny winked at Castiel.

  
  


Castiel beamed. He couldn’t help himself. Benny sure had a way with his words.

  
  


“I’ve been to Louisiana before. Though I never ate boiled crawfish, the food I did partake of was delicious.”

  
  


“Oh, have you now?” Benny asked with a knowing look.

  
  


“Yes, New Orleans. I spent a short few months in their trauma center. The best experience to be had for one in the medical profession. And one short trip with a friend several years ago.”

  
  


“If y’all will excuse me. I know when I am defeated. I’m going to grab a place near the bar for us before we miss out on our usual spot,” Lee smiled at Castiel, “but my offer still stands.” He nodded at them all as he squeezed past to make his way to the darker bar side of the building.

  
  


Benny laughed. “Never been much competition to me,” he called to Lee’s back.”

  
  


He stepped closer to Castiel’s table, eyes a smoldering deep blue. “I don’t know what your usual tastes tend towards, but I like tried and true with a little variety now and then, to keep things from getting old or boring.”

  
  


Castiel looked up towards Benny, knowing now without a doubt that they were both flirting with him. Besides a slight embarrassment and nervousness at never having been in the position of one being wooed, Castiel was elated, delighted and terrified. He hadn’t had these feelings since his last intimate night with André and Betta.

  
  


Almost as if he could sense his feelings and were trying to put him at ease, Benny smiled tenderly and ran off a quick list of his favorite items:

  
  


“Pulled pork or a Cuban if you’re leaning towards a sandwich. They make a mean Brisket Pizza, also just their Brisket as a plate dinner or in sandwich form, is a winner. But to me, you look like a man who might be looking for a bit more of a refined meal to go with your glass of red wine, so I’d recommend you try their Fried Ravioli in Marinara Sauce with a Caesar Salad on the side. Comes with an order of hot bread and dipping sauce.”

  
  


Castiel found his voice right as the door swung open and Gabriel sauntered in grinning from ear to ear.

  
  


“Hey, bro. Already turning your charm on the locals I see.” He paused at the table just to the side of Benny.

  
  


Castiel felt mortified. He quickly glanced at Jack and Claire. Jack was oblivious, furiously texting. Claire had glanced up when she heard her Uncle’s voice, but just snorted and quickly looked back down at her phone.

  
  


“Benny Lafitte, my brother, Gabriel. Gabriel, Benny Lafitte.” Castiel rose as he introduced them. “Benny is a friend of one of my patients.” He said by way of explanation.

The two men shook hands.

  
  


“Ah, yes, the brother that owns the Sweet Spot. You waited on me earlier when I bought my Berry Legal Topped Hint of Mint gelato,” Benny said with a grin. “It was delicious, by the way.”

  
  


“Oh, handsome and charming. Thank you, I aim to please.” Gabriel lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

  
  


Benny laughed. “I’m going to let you all get to your dinner now. I’ve taken up enough of your time. Remember Fried Ravioli.” He winked at Castiel. “You kids ought to get yourselves one of their milkshakes. Chocolate’s my favorite, but I don’t think they make a bad one of any flavor. Best in the state.”

  
  


“Enjoy.” He tapped the top of the table lightly, skimming the edge of Castiel’s hand as he did so, then nodded and walked off. 

  
  


“Well, well, well. Looks like somebody had a good day.” Gabriel sat down like the cat who ate the canary. “Do tell!” 

  
  


Gabriel did not get an answer from Castiel that evening. Completely misunderstanding his Uncle’s meaning, Jack looked up as he shoved his phone in his pocket and launched into a lengthy summary of their day.


	12. Is It Hot In Here or Is It Just You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy

Castiel and the twins bid a good night to Gabriel and headed to their car. 

  
  


“Wow, look at that sky!” Castiel gasped as they got to the middle of the street. “We had pretty sunsets in the city, but this is just magnificent.”

  
  


“Ooh, that is pretty!” Jack agreed.

  
  


“Dad, can we go drive over that way to the other side, at the northwestern edge of town so I can take some pics?” Claire pulled her phone out of her pocket and began snapping photographs.

  
  


“Absolutely!” Castiel always encouraged Claire’s interest in photography and had even gotten her an old 35mm camera, similar to the one that Betta had given him, along with many accessories and lenses. She had a great eye and had taken to photography and art since she was small.

  
  


“Great!” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ran the rest of the way to the car. “C’mon, let's hurry. I want to get there before this light changes more.”

  
  


Jack and Castiel sprinted to the car. They turned left at the corner and headed west, then took the curving road that went around towards Chase Lake, Castiel driving a bit faster than the speed limit to catch the sun for his daughter. He smiled at the thought. He would always try to catch the sun for his children. They were his everything. He marveled that the simple things made them squeal with delight, and felt immense pride at the way they recognized the beauty of the world in what much of humanity would consider the ordinary.

  
  


“Here, go ahead.” He said, slowing down quickly, pointing to the small hills surrounding the lake. Before the car came to a complete stop, Claire had the door open and had jumped out at a run as Castiel knew she would.

  
  


He pulled the car over fully off the road, shut the engine off and put his arm around Jack’s shoulder as they got out of the car. They walked together up the hill, Jack snapping his own photos on the way. 

  
  


“I love when the sky has the high wispy cirrus clouds like that so we can see the Angels’ wings.” Jack announced throwing himself on his back as soon as they reached the top of the hill. He began snapping pictures of the sky and clouds.

  
  


“I know you do.” Castiel smiled fondly, and plopped down on his back next to his son. “You’ve called them that since you could speak.”

  
  


Castiel remembered when Jack used to look at the sky as an infant, and ramble in his baby language. He swore sometimes as the precocious babe waved his tiny baby fists at those wing-shaped clouds, he’d hear “Momma, maa maa” coming from the perfect rosy lips. Sometimes Castiel would break down and cry. Other times, in his infinite guilt and sadness, his eyes would comb the sky wishing he could see with the eyes of his innocent child, wishing he could see that Meg was looking down with love on them. Praying she did not hate him for her going through so happily with the pregnancy even when they both knew that she, deep down, did not want children.

  
  


Now, though he still thought of her in moments like these, and a thousand others, mostly with the children, he felt less sorrow and guilt, and more of a deep sense of gratefulness and joy that, though she was gone, and it was mostly his fault, he had the most wonderful gift he was ever given. He cherished each and every second of his time with his children and always tried to see the world through their eyes.

  
  


Jack had rolled over now and was taking pictures of a worm making its way out of the soil between the blades of fragrant prairie grass in the last burst of the brilliant rays of the sunset. Claire, phone lens pointed up in front of her, was slowly spinning around in the breeze as a flock of blackbirds flew into the western light, shadows against the orange and pink canvas of the heavens. Castiel took a deep breath, locking in the scents and feelings of the atmosphere with the visions and emotions he was feeling. ‘Sometimes the only photographs one needs are the sense memories’ he’d always tell the children. This was one of those times.

  
  


It was on the verge of being too dark to see well enough to safely walk down the hill, as they made their way back to the car. The trio drove along the road that followed the northern edge of the lake and turned to the south. 

  
  


“Aren’t you going the wrong way, Dad?” Jack asked as he swiveled his head around watching the last sliver of pink turning to violet-blue as the night fell and pin-pricks of starlight began to appear.

  
  


“We can get home from this way instead of going all the way back to town and taking the other road. This road meets up with our road and it winds around until it gets to our drive, but I think if we go this way and turn through Mr. Winchester’s driveway, we can take the private road from his property to ours and get home in half the time.” Castiel slowed as they’d made the turn off the county road onto the road that wound through the farmlands.

  
  


“Mr. Winchester invited us to utilize the road anytime we wanted.” Though the last time he’d seen Dean Winchester, the man was not very pleased with him, and had rescinded his request to address him as “Dean,” Castiel decided he’d take the short cut, and deal with any anger and consequences later.

  
  


“I’m glad, because it’s dark and kinda creepy out here when the sun goes down,” Claire observed from the back seat as she was scrolling through her photographs.

  
  


“Dad, if you were a kidnapper and pushed us out of the car right now, we’d starve to death out here before we found our way home.” Jack said with trepidation pulling open his maps app. “Can you night-fly drive, Dad? Please?”

  
  


“Oh, yeah! Can you, Dad!?”

  
  


“You just ate enough food for three people, Jack. You wouldn’t starve.” Castiel laughed as he lowered the four windows of the car, slowed down a little, and turned the lights off as they rode down a straight stretch of road. Claire and Jack both immediately lay their heads on their doors at the open window.

  
  


“I just saw a falling star! That’s so cool!” Claire yelled as her head popped over the front seat between Jack and Castiel. 

  
  


“Claire! Seat belt on!”

  
  


“I saw it, too!” Jack yelled towards the sky. 

  
  


“It is on! I just stretched it out.”

  
  


“Properly! Or I stop.” Castiel had slowed down almost to a stop. The low whoosh of the wind in their ears now gone, and taken over by light cricket song and the hoot of an owl somewhere nearby.

  
  


“Yes, sir. It is now.” Claire said sullenly.

  
  


Castiel brought the car back up to its former speed and drove a short distance more to let the kids have their thrill, but did not yet trust this road he did not know. He doubted it was used by much more than people going to and from the Winchester lands. There were no other houses out this way, and one could not get anywhere quicker using this road than the county roads. But he still decided to play it safe until he knew the road better.

  
  


He preferred doing ‘night-sky driving,’ as the children dubbed it, when the moon was out, or like now, when the sky still had a hint of the dim twilight of the just-disappeared glow of dusk. Though he’d also done it on moon-dark nights filled with stars, as well as black-sky nights shrouded by storm clouds, but almost always on roads he trusted or knew. There was a time before the children, when he was much more of a daredevil, and would find straight lengths of roads that ran for miles in the countryside and on cross-country road trips. He’d turn out his headlight, take off his helmet, and fly his motorcycle at breakneck speeds in the darkness, wind in his hair, and stars filling the vast sky to the horizon, compelled to fly headlong down a road that met the Milky Way, driving to the stars and his destiny. It always seemed just out of his reach. He never could divine exactly what that destiny might be, and always had to slow his bike in the end, never reaching the distant shining beacons he was drawn to like moth to flame.

  
  


“OK. Heads up and back inside. It’s getting a bit chilly and curves will be coming up.” Castiel turned the headlights back on and raised the windows.

  
  


“I love night-sky driving! Thanks, Dad.”

  
  


“Yes! Thank you, Daddy!” Claire leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, and gave Castiel a kiss on the side of his cheek.

  
  


“Ooh, I earned a ‘Daddy’ for that?” Castiel laughed and bent his head to kiss her arm.

  
  
  


Claire leaned her head against his cheek, content. 

  
  


“You’re supposed to be sitting back in your seat properly.”

  
  


“I know, but I just needed a hug.”

  
  


Castiel patted her arm. “I love you, baby, but I need to be alert for the turn-in to the driveway, so you all help me find the reflector that should be coming up shortly.

  
  


“I see the reflector way up there.” Jack pointed. “Well, I did but now I don’t see it. It was orange.”

  
  


“There it is!” Claire said.

  
  


“Yes, I see it.” Castiel began to slow down the closer they got. “I guess the trees or brush blocked it for a bit. I just don’t want to drive in the ditch or miss the turn.

  
  


As they approached nearer, a street lamp came on at the gate and more could be seen coming on dotted along the long drive towards the house.

  
  


“What’s that?” Jack asked. “Oh, never mind, I see. It’s a mailbox stuffed with a box.”

  
  


“That’s a weird, giant mailbox!” Claire said as they turned into the gate opening. “I was wondering why they were so big when we saw them by a few other houses before.”

  
  


“Mmm, it is.” Castiel slowed the car to a stop. “People in the country and rural areas like this sometimes prefer to have bigger mailboxes when they’re houses are so far from the road and the mail person doesn’t always go up to their doors to bring packages. Usually, they have to go into town to pick them up.”

  
  


“Why are we getting it? Is our mailbox big like that? I don’t remember.”

  
  


“I don’t remember either, Jack. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I even noticed, I’ve never even checked the box since we got here Thursday. I’ll have to do that in the morning. I’m going to drop the package off at Mr. Winchester’s because he has a broken leg, which is probably why it’s still sitting out here.”

  
  


Castiel stepped out, grabbed the package, checked the label to make sure it wasn’t being sent out, checked for any other mail, got back in the car and proceeded down the driveway.

  
  


“I’m just going to go up, knock on the door and give this to him. Maybe check and see if he needs help or anything else, since he’s alone right now as far as I know. You both can just wait in the car. I should be right back.”

  
  


“Is the dog with him? I want to see the dog again.”

  
  


“I know. I miss her. Can we get a dog like her, Dad?

  
  


“Yes, Miracle is his service dog, which is most likely why she’s so well-behaved and intelligent. But maybe another day. I don’t want to barge in unannounced and unexpectedly to introduce you all and ask if you can play with his dog who, you must remember, is most likely working.” He pulled to a stop. He’d avoided answering the “get a dog” question for now.

  
  


“Can we get out and look at the stars while you do that? Jack always loved identifying the constellations.

  
  


“Sure, but don't go far. I won’t be long.” Castiel turned off the engine, opened his door, grabbed the package and closed his door.

  
  


“Just to the edge of the circle of the street lamp.” Jack agreed.

  
  


The porch lights came on as Castiel approached the stairs. He heard Miracle bark a few times and as he looked up, he could see movement inside through the cut glass door. By the time he got to the top, the door opened and Miracle bounded out to him. He bent down to pet her as she jumped up in his lap, rubbing her head and body all over him as she whined happily.

  
  


“C’mon in! It’s Grand Central Station here today!” Dean boomed sarcastically, hand waving. “I just have a broken leg. That doesn’t mean I need babysitters all day.”

  
  


“Oh, hey, Doc. You lost? Sorry, I didn’t expect to see you so soon after the shitty way I treated you.” Dean seemed remorseful and unsure of what to say next. “I’ve been having a trail of visitors and babysitters so often today, that it seems like I’m barely settled back down to work when the next one comes in.”

  
  


Miracle started barking again when she saw the kids. Dean looked around Castiel, catching the light scent of his thirst-inducing cologne drifting on the breeze.

  
  


“So those are your two?” He swallowed. He smiled, craning to see around Castiel.

  
  


“Yes, Claire and Jack.” Castiel turned to look at them and turned back to Dean.

  
  


Miracle was whimpering, wagging her tail and going from her place next to Dean, to the edge of the porch, to Castiel, and back to Dean again.

  
  


“OK, girl, you can go.” He gave her a hand signal as he spoke to her, and she barked at him before running off down the steps to greet the twins, tail wagging furiously in her excitement.

  
  


Claire and Jack ran to meet her, dropping to their knees. They looked up and waved at the men on the porch.

  
  


“She looks like she missed you two,” Dean called and waved.

  
  


The twins waved back as they pet the happy dog. “We did,” Jack yelled back.

“She’s only been outside for a few short periods, so she’ll enjoy being out here with you two.” Dean replied through cupped hands.

  
  


Dean looked up at Castiel who was still turned watching the reunion of the children and Miracle. He wore a pair of expensive dark indigo distressed jeans with leather lace-ups and a short sleeved button up shirt in white or palest of blue. It was difficult to tell in the light of the porch, but one thing Dean could tell was that the buttons were having a hard time doing their job and straining to keep what was beneath the shirt hidden. Even the sleeve was taut around the bicep. Dean swallowed hard as he saw that the overall fit of the shirt was also taut and almost translucent. He could make out the ripples of each muscle on the broad expanse of back. His eye followed the muscular cords that ran down either side of the spine and disappeared into the belt-wrapped waistband of the jeans. He was not disappointed. He could see the round firmness of the buttocks pulling the jeans into a form fitting sheath around the thick muscular thighs. Castiel chose that moment to turn around and Dean was left gazing directly at his crotch. Dean stared at the bulge for a second before breaking his eyes away. He swallowed again. He needed another drink, now.

  
  


“Would you like to come in? Have a drink?” He asked as casually as he could muster.

  
  


“No, thank you. We’re just headed home from dinner in town earlier.” Castiel smiled almost timidly. He was a bit on edge wondering if he’d do or say something to set the man off again, but mainly hoping against hope, wondering if Dean remembered that Castiel had kissed his hair while trying to sooth him through his panic attack that morning. 

  
  


“But, um, I noticed this package in your mailbox as we were turning in. I stopped to pick it up for you knowing it was not likely you’d have been able to get out there to retrieve it yourself.” Castiel said, offering the box to Dean. “There did not seem to be any other mail or packages, besides this one.”

  
  


“No, my friend Lee had picked up the mail for me earlier. I guess the package must've gotten here after my final ‘friend visit’ of the day. I was wondering why you were toting that around,” Dean laughed reaching for the package. “Pine Prairie Printers. It’s about time! They were supposed to be here last week.” he set the box on his lap. “Thanks.”

  
  


“I hope you don’t mind that I took you up on your offer to use your private road?” Castiel had sensed a subtle change in Dean’s demeanor.

  
  


…

  
  


“No! Not at all. Any time. Mi camino es tu camino.” Dean smiled, looking up at Castiel. Castiel looked down at him. He did not think the smile reached Dean’s eyes and searched for a reason why.

  
  


…

  
  
  


The green eyes had a softer yellow-green hue in the glow of the porch light, like flecks of peridot glinting in absinthe. Castiel wondered at the mercurial emotions of the man. Smiles one moment, anger the next, unfathomable expressions in between. He unconsciously tilted his head trying to figure out the man behind the captivating green eyes.

  
  


…

  
  
  


A screech of laughter from the children and Miracle barking broke the moment.

  
  


“I guess I need to get these two home now.” Castiel gave a quick glance over his shoulder to Jack and Claire.

  
  


Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

  
  


Castiel thought he looked disappointed. “Is there anything I can do for you, get you or help out with, before I go? Anything at all?”

  
  


…

  
  


Dean thought, ‘Yeah, Doc. I’ve got this raging boner going on in my pants under this box. These drawstring pants are Sam’s and real loose to accommodate one of those long, slender-fingered hands of yours. I could definitely use the help of wrapping my arms around those massive thighs you got there and see if anything else in those tight jeans matches in corresponding girth and length.’ But he realized that would not be a socially acceptable response.

  
  
  


…

  
  
  


“No. I got everything I need right here,” Dean looked away and swiped his hand across his face, rubbing his chin.

  
  


“OK, then I’ll get out of your hair then, but if you need anything, I’m nearby so please, let me know or give me a call.” He pulled one of his cards out of his phone pocket case and flipped it over. “Yes. Here this one has my personal cell on the back. I should’ve given this to you yesterday. My apologies.”

  
  


…

  
  


Dean reached up to tentatively take the card. “Nothin’ to apologize for.” Dean shook his head at him without breaking eye contact.

  
  


…

  
  


“Say your goodbyes to Miracle, kids, and hop in the car. We’re ready to leave,” Castiel called down to the children, not bothering to turn towards them.

  
  


…

  
  


“Aw!” and dog whines could be heard from the yard.

  
  


…

  
  


Dean gave a shrill quick whistle.

  
  


…

  
  


Miracle came bouncing up the stairs, wagging and rubbing Castiel’s legs.

  
  


…

  
  


He bent down, squatting on his haunches and finally looked at the excited dog as she jumped on his lap, rubbing and whining for petting. Hugging her, he curled around her, nestled his face in her head and neck, and whispered sweet doggy nothings in her ears. Then, he gave her a hearty pat on her sides and stood as she jumped off his lap.

  
  


“Goodnight.” He nodded at Dean and headed down the steps.

  
  


There was no answer right away. 

  
  


“‘night, Cas,” Dean finally answered.

  
  


Castiel turned to tilt his head at Dean as he reached the bottom. Dean put two fingers to his temple in quick salute and turned his wheelchair towards the door.

  
  


Castiel stood staring at the closed door. ‘Cas. He called me Cas again,’ he thought, baffled. He shook his head and got in the car.

  
  


+++++++++++

  
  


Castiel pointed out the pond on the way to the barnhouse. The kids were excited to see that the pond was closer to their house than Dean’s part of the property. 

  
  


“That means if there’s fish, we can fish in it without having to go too far,” Jack said excitedly.

  
  


“I’d rather fish in a river or lake than a small pond,” Claire added.

  
  


“Everyone has their favorite places, just like everyone has favored baits and lures,” Castiel stopped the car under their carport. 

  
  


“We need to get our gear from Uncle Gabe’s. I wish we had it now so we could fish in the morning.” 

  
  


“We can get it tomorrow, Jack.” Castiel held the kitchen door open as the twins entered, then locked it for the night. 

  
  


“You two go wash your doggy hands and faces before anything else. I think we all received enough love and licks to smell up the couch.”

  
  


“I’m going to play some video games. C’mon, come play, Jack.” Claire tried to make a break for it up the stairs.

  
  


“Claire. Swear Jar is hungry. Feed it before you go upstairs.” 

  
  


“Ugh! I almost made it,” she laughed as she quickly stuffed $4 in the jar. 

  
  


The “F” word by itself was $4, but any form of “MF” was the steepest penalty of $5. The jar was fed bills regularly by Claire and Castiel. Most of the change came from Jack. The establishment of Swear Jar constantly created problems for Castiel.

  
  


At first, they used the bounty to buy things they wanted during vacations. That saw an increase in the amount of swearing, as well as in how quickly the money accumulated. Then, they used it for gifts for friends and relatives, which kept the swearing at a level status quo.

  
  


When it was changed to be donated to charity, there was a significant increase in the amount of swearing as well as the rate at which it filled. It was wonderful for their various charitable endeavors, but put quite a beating in the original objective of the “this will teach you that swearing is not a good personality trait.“ He had yet to come up with a good solution as to what to do with the amassed funds that would also teach the children that swearing was something from which they should refrain.

  
  


“Well, quit swearing and it will be so hungry it may starve and go away.” Castiel admonished.

  
  


That elicited laughs from Jack and Claire.

  
  


“Right, Dad. Because we all know you don't swear.” They ran upstairs shoving each other and laughing.:

  
  


“One hour, then baths!” He called as they disappeared.

  
  


Castiel decided to spend part of his evening finishing a book he’d been working on for the last two and a half months. He’d been so busy dealing with the fallout of Betta’s show, packing, moving and settling in that he’d ended up starting it over twice. He almost didn’t want to finish it, because he felt it would bring up bad feelings stagnating in the back of his mind.

He’d just poured himself a glass of wine and opened his book when his sister Anna called. 

  
  


“Hi, Castiel! I just wanted to see how things were going. Balthazar and I just had a late dinner and wanted to check on you and the kiddos. Say ‘hi’ to him, Balthazar.”

“Hello, Cassie. I hope you don’t let all the feral country locals come beating down your door to have a tryst with the new physician in town?”

  
  


“Yes, there it is,” he said with resignation. “I knew Gabriel couldn’t keep his mouth shut about anything.”

  
  


“C’mon, Castiel, you knew this was coming. You can't think that after what? three years, that you going on a date is not big news.” Anna protested.

  
  


“I haven’t gone on a date…yet.” Castiel hesitated. “Look, Anna, it’s a bit soon to be talking about this. I just met them and not even sure if it’s a platonic friendship thing of someone taking pity on the city guy moving to the country and knowing hardly anyone.”

  
  


“But the important thing is that you have prospects.” Balthazar gushed. “It’s been a long time, Cassie Dear. We’re just here for moral support. Okay. Here’s my stop. I love you. I will talk to you soon, my love.”

  
  


“Bye, Balthazar. Love you, too.” He could hear Anna and Balthazar say their goodbyes and the car door closing.

  
  


“ _Them?! So you do have more than one!_ Gabriel never told me that!” Anna practically screamed. “That’s a good thing though. You know one lady sees another one with something she doesn’t have or may never have, and people suddenly want that thing. Women can be jealous of the other girl having the latest trend, and getting a date with the new doctor in town, well, it seems to me would be a big trend.” Anna and her analytical mind always talked in trends and averages. 

  
  


“OK, Anna, I’m going to go read my book now. I’ve been on it for a while and I just want to finish it. We love you. We miss you. I’ll talk to you later.”

  
  


“Alright, I’m still going to want more information, and very soon. Stay safe baby brother. I love you.”

  
  


Castiel had no sooner put down his phone and opened his book once more when his phone rang again. He looked at the name. Great. This would not be not be a quick conversation. 

  
  


“Yes, Balthazar?” He said a bit exasperated.

  
  


“Oh, you wound me to my core. Don’t treat me like that Castiel. I just had to check back with you on what you’d said.”

  
  


“What? I barely said much of anything.” Castiel ran his fingers through his hair.

  
  


“Just a bit of clarification, just between you and me. I promise.” Balthazar’s tone changed to his big brotherly protective sound. “My dearest cousin Cassie, please. When you said ‘them’ was that in reference to more than one or just pronouns?”

  
  


“It was in reference to both,” Castiel huffed a resigned sigh.

  
  


“Ah! My dear! See that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” He cooed with his British accent at Castiel. “Now, second question: were said pronouns chosen by you or are they the usual pronouns used by these prospective romantic interests?”

  
  


Castiel hesitated. He knew that of all the people in the world he could trust with this, it would be Balthazar, but his problem still was he’d never truly come to terms with it himself, because every time he tried, it seemed to affect his life in extreme ways.

  
  


He heard a quick intake of air.

  
  


“Castiel!” Balthazar gasped. “What is it? You’re avoiding talking about this for a reason. What is it?” 

  
  


Castiel chewed his lower lip and looked at the ceiling for help. He hoped he didn’t regret this. 

  
  


They’re not women,” he sighed.

  
  


“Delightful!” 

  
  


The last thing he expected to hear was Balthazar telling him it was delightful, but then again, one rarely could predict things that would come out of Balthazar’s mouth. However, it was usually encouraging, expressive and positive.

  
  


“Oh, my little Cassie. Still struggling?” Balthazar said tenderly.

  
  


The amount of compassion and love he felt pouring through the phone almost broke him. He took a deep breath and answered.

  
  


“Yes. I thought I’d put all that behind me. Thoughts of romance, relationships, possibly even love. But here I am in this new place and suddenly, through no advances or signals of my own that I know of, here are these two, I don’t know, maybe more, men hitting on me, flirting, asking to take me out, like I’m the belle of the ball.” He rubbed his hand across his forehead, back and forth. “I didn’t know it’d make me feel…feel…I didn’t expect the attention to make me actually feel…feelings.”

  
  


He huffed out a long breath.

  
  


He heard Balthazar chuckle lightly.

  
  


“Oh sweet child. You do know that you are allowed to feel? You deserve to feel. You are a sweet, tender Angel of a man who has had hardship and loss, and you cannot lock away your emotions hoping that pain and tragedy never touch you again. You can’t let guilt steal you living as a caring, giving, feeling, emotional human. Removing your humanity won’t remove this misplaced guilt you carry. Please, listen to me, Cassie. I will love you no matter whom you choose to love. Your children will love and adore you no matter whom you choose to love. What matters is not withholding your humanity and emotions because of guilt. There is some man out there who deserves the vast amount of love you can give. And more importantly still, there is a man out there who has vast amounts of love to bestow on you that you more than deserve. And don’t you ever let ANYONE tell you different, including that voice inside of yourself.”

  
  


Castiel felt the tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t breathe or he’d sob. He put the phone down and used both hands to wipe his eyes. Then let out a long held breath and took in several deep breaths before picking up the phone again.

  
  


“Thank you,” he said simply. He took a deep breath and let it burst out of him in a rush. “Thank you.” He wiped more tears from his eyes, face, and chin. The front of his shirt was damp with tears.

  
  


“No, thanks required.” Balthazar cooed quietly. “Sometimes we just need someone to tell us we have permission to feel or cry or let go of guilt. Let go of it, my dear. You’ve held onto it like a precious jewel for far too long.”

  
  


He took another deep breath. “So, you really think that it’s a man that…that is going to give me love? That I will love? I don’t even know if I’d know how to go about that, B.”

  
  


“Oh, I definitely think so. I’ve been thinking so for a very long time. It’s one of the reasons I introduced you to André and Alice. Unfortunately, Alice came on a little stronger than André, and though your relationship with her helped you loosen up and get you on the right road, you hit some potholes and areas of yourself that needed roadwork. I think it’s time the construction signs come down and you get back on that highway, love.”

  
  


“Easier said than done,” Castiel sighed loudly.

  
  


“Nonsense. You go about being your beautiful and lovely self, _without_ putting unnecessary boundaries and restrictions on yourself. And everything will fall into place. Just know that you are a good soul and deserve your own happiness.” Castiel could practically hear Balthazar smiling through the phone.

  
  


“And I want to meet whatever lucky fellow, _or fellows,_ they happen to be, in the very near future. You hear me?”

  
  


Castiel, still tearful, nodded, because he did not trust himself to speak without erupting in tears.

  
  


“Cassie, I’m waiting, dear.”

  
  


“Yes!” Castiel said in a burst of air. “Yes.”

  
  


“Excellent! I’m going to be coming out there soon with Anna and I expect great progress from you. You’re going to do just fine. Now go pour yourself a large glass of wine, draw a hot bath and soak in fragrant water while listening to some Mozart.”

  
  


“B, just…thank you. What would I do without your words of wisdom, and love?”

  
  


“Goodnight, Castiel.”

  
  


“Goodnight, Balthazar.”

  
  
  


Castiel finished off his glass of wine in one go. He needed it after his emotional phone call with Balthazar. He got up to blow his nose and get another glass of wine, but ended up having to deal with another nosebleed after his crying. Finally, he filled his wine glass and went to tell the twins that it was time for baths or showers and wind down for bed. Their usual routine was only books allowed after 8:30 during the school year, except for Fridays and Saturdays. He headed back down to read with his glass of wine while waiting for the kids to get ready for bed.

  
  


He tried reading, but his mind was on the things Balthazar said. Balthazar was always his champion. In many ways Balthazar and he were closer than he and Gabriel. His cousin was always like a brother, daring best friend, and loving parent all rolled into one, and Castiel valued and took to heart everything he ever said or did, and was never let down.

  
  


Castiel wondered if there was something different about himself now. Why suddenly were men interested in him? To be honest, he always had men be friendly towards him, and if he thought about it now, he’d have to admit, they weren’t always of the lasting friendship variety, but he was hard pressed to say another man flirted with him trying to pick him up—that he knew of. Maybe he was just oblivious? He decided he was going to try to be more mindful, to pay more attention to it now.

  
  


After Claire and Jack had their showers, came down to get water and say their goodnights, Castiel was still mulling things over in his head. He poured himself one more glass of wine and made his way up to his bedroom. He decided to take Balthazar’s advice and take a hot bath. He put on some music, lit a few candles, drizzled some his favorite fragrant oils in the bath and lay back in the hot silky water with his glass of wine.

  
  


He was usually not the bubble bath kind of man, but once in a while he did enjoy a hot soak. This tub was almost decadent in its comfort and size. Castiel looked around at the bathroom. It was spacious but not too large. It had double sinks, floor to ceiling tile, a shower big enough for two, and heated floors. If he had designed it, he might’ve only changed the size to accommodate a bit more floor space and enlarge the shower somewhat. Dean Winchester might not have a lot of money, but he knew what comfort was.

  
  


There was an enigma, Castiel thought. At least now he knew, somewhat, why the man had such mercurial moods. He can’t imagine what horrible things happened to him, and Benny in Afghanistan, but he was glad they both came out of it. Benny had said Dean punching him in the nose was a very Dean Winchester type of thing. Castiel wondered if that meant he was prone to panic attacks that resulted in injury to others or if he was simply prone to violence.

  
  


Benny, Dean and Lee seemed to be great, close friends. Benny and Lee took such gentle care of him when they picked Dean up to bring him home from the hospital. Though Castiel had spoken with Benny more, and Lee only briefly, he would definitely say if the two of them, he found Benny a bit more attractive. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but though Lee seemed nice enough, he had a completely different vibe that did not hold his attention like Benny did.

Benny definitely seemed to be a take charge type of man. He laughed remembering how Benny had called him a “damsel in distress.” Other than his brothers, or his cousin Balthazar, when he was sad, physically hurt or in mourning, he’d never had a man touch him in such a caring and tender way as Benny did cleaning the blood from his face. And his only physical sexual experience with a man was with André. He often thought of André, and masturbated to his limited experience with him, when there was still the possibility of something between them, but after everything changed, whatever switch that had shut off in his mind, he’d never thought of him again in his fantasies. He used the experience, sensations and feelings as a cornerstone of the fantasies, but they did not include André’s face.

  
  


Castiel ran his hand down his chest across the plane of his stomach until he felt his cock. He did not grasp it, but ever so gently ran the tips of his fingers and knuckles back and forth up and down the slowly increasing length of it. He thought of being on that bed with the muscular male body pressed against him, of the feel of their two cocks pressed against one another, and of wanting more.

  
  


He thought of the firm, but gentle hands and soft words of Benny as he touched his face, the brush of his hand on his chin, and again as his own hand lay on the table at Kellum’s. Castiel wrapped his hand around his swelling erection and squeezed it firmly. He saw in his mind's eye the sinewy forearms and broad chest underneath the light blue Henley that Benny wore. He remembered having the urge to slip his hand into the unbuttoned opening of it and run his palms over the bare skin underneath. He gripped tight the base of his shaft and thrust his hips up into it, imagining sliding his length between tight, hard masculine buttocks, reaching around with his other hand to find a silken penis aching to be touched. He changed the position of his hand and arched up again, thrusting into his clasped grip wondering what the feel would be to slowly insert the head into a waiting and ready slick pucker, and feeling that tightness slowly engulf his entire length while he still held another cock firm in his hand. He simultaneously thought of the feeling of his own hole being filled with the purple dildo that Betta used on him a few times. He remembered the feeling of little spasms as his own ring of muscles simultaneously wanted, and twitched for the first slow press of bulbous head against him, the anticipation and slight fear. The tightness and reminding to relax. The deep breath and letting go as he was filled. He tried to imagine the opposite. Of the tip of his cock pushing into the tight ring. He knew what it felt like with the softness of a woman, arms wrapped around supple belly and small feminine waist, cupping breasts, and plunging fingers into a wet, throbbing tunnel of muscle as he shoved his cock between the soft buttocks and deeper into a willing ass. But he wanted to know the feeling of his chest against a strong, corded back, arms around hard obliques, a ripple of six pack and the firm thrust of dick in his hand as he plunged his own into a quivering hole.

  
  


He pulled on his hardness from tip to base. He watched as the head of his cock emerged from his foreskin, glistening deep pinkish-red, and then disappear as the skin was shirred back over the head. He made a tight “o” his his other hand to mimic the feel of pushing into the tight ring of anal muscles, pushing himself up into that hole. He closed his eyes remembering the feel of a male body, flesh to flesh, against him. The glow of the skin of Benny’s chest peeking tantalizingly from the opening of the shirt, the touch of the man’s hands against his cheek and chin, the mouth that seemed to have a perpetual secret knowing smile. His mind’s eye traveled up those lips, pondering the secret of the smile, and traveled up to imagine eyes that should have been crystal blue, but were instead green eyes that held so much mystery.

  
  


Castiel ran his thumb up and over the pre-cum slick head, thrust and squeezed and twisted his cock as he quickened his pace. He moaned as he saw the green eyes changing from bright yellow-green of peridot in absinthe to grassy green with amber flecks, darkened with desire. The lips no longer lips with a secret smile, but rosy red with freckles. The chest no longer broad, but finely chiseled and slim, his own hand pressed against it, feeling the racing heartbeat, and the panting moans Dean made in those moments. He remembered Dean shirtless in the hospital bed and how quickly the erection sprung to life as he tried to rub the cherry sauce from the blankets. He remembered looking up into stunningly smoldering green eyes, and seeing the tip of Dean’s tongue darting out, and slowly moisten those red lips before it disappeared into the dark depths of a mouth he’d like to explore. Castiel remembered the scent of Dean filling his nostrils as he pressed a kiss into his hair. The soft light dancing off the golden highlights mingled in the darker tresses. 

  
  


Castiel was so lost in visions of Dean, riding a wave of want, need, and a three month self-imposed celibacy, that he almost felt shattered when he came, and he moaned so loud at his final release that he startled himself. 

  
  


He squeezed and rubbed his half-firm cock until he caught his breath. He circled his finger lightly over the head and jerked several times from the sensitivity. He breathed deeply, thinking about what just happened. Where did that come from? He tried calling to mind images of Benny again, but his mind would not have it. All his imagination would give him was images of Dean, scent of Dean, feel of Dean, until he was coming again before he knew it. He lay spent in the tub. Cum floating and some slowly sinking in the water around him, and all he wanted was to pull another load out as he lay in his own juices thinking about Dean.

Eventually, he got up, drained the tub and rinsed it out. He went to the shower, swollen cock in hand, and rubbed out another two orgasms before he felt too sore and too tired to do it again. He washed and went to bed, but could not sleep. He’d never had that many orgasms in a row that quickly. He lay awake most of the night alternating between trying to envision Benny and even André, and masturbating three more times to visions of Dean. He finally fell asleep just before dawn.

  
  
  


+++++++

  
  


Dean watched as Castiel began to descend his steps. He didn’t know what it was, but this one time, Dr. NoWay did not anger him or irritate him in any way. On the contrary, he derived warm feelings from the Doc’s visit this time. He didn’t know why or what could’ve made a difference, but there definitely was a difference. Maybe it was seeing Miracle’s reaction to him. Maybe it was seeing his kids and the way Miracle was happy to run out and play with them. He didn’t know, but he knew he didn’t mind the visit so much. And he knew he wouldn’t mind another one in the future.

  
  


“‘Night Cas,” Dean watched Castiel turn around and stare at him, head tilted to one side. He raised a hand in salute by way of good night and turned to go in, box rocking in his lap on his erect cock. He rolled to the coffee table to set the box down. He knew what it was and would look at them later. Right now he was going to get a stiff drink to go with his still-stiff cock. He looked down at it and slapped it.

  
  


“Whaddya doin’? Ya killin’ me here!” 

  
  


He downed a shot and poured a second.

  
  


He tried thinking about why the calendars were so late getting to him. Everyone on staff at the firehouse had vowed to sell a minimum of one box of “7 Firemen…and One Hot Firewoman Pinup Calendars” this year. This was the fourth year in a row they had done them. Dean was usually able to sell his first box by mid-November if they came the week before Halloween. They featured the full firehouse lineup as well as office staff, recipes, career highlights and a short bio. Pamela was the only woman firefighter in the county and she was definitely hot, Dean thought, remembering her photoshoot. He had a few drunken rolls in the hay with her, until they realized that they fed each other’s debauched, wild proclivities and anything more between them could lead down a dark road. He smiled thinking of the last time they were together.

  
  


“Well, that’s not helping.” He looked down at the very noticeable tenting of his pajama pants and poured another shot. Miracle whimpered and put her chin on his leg.

“I’m OK, girl,” he ruffled the fur of her scruff, smiling, “I just need this thing to calm down,” he said gesturing at his semi-wood.

  
  


He decided he’d go try to take a bath or shower. He prepared everything and stripped off his clothes. He pulled out the waterproof cast protector cover. Try as he might he couldn’t pull it up over his heel. He tried wriggling, leaning over as far as he could, and finally, he tried using the hooked handle of an umbrella, which also failed. At that point he gave up. He was able to do it in physical therapy before he left the hospital, but this one was a different design from the one he had practiced with. Frustrated he threw it across the bathroom and gave himself a sponge bath with a washcloth and the use of three bath towels. 

  
  


He cleaned up the bathroom floor of water and towels the best he could and went to feed Miracle. Usually at this time of night he was goofing off with the twins, playing video games, practicing their guitars or watching a movie. He went around to turn out some lights and dimmed others. He picked up a beer from the fridge, grabbed his guitar and rolled over to the stereo to put on some vinyl. Lynyrd Skynyrd. He’d just play along to some songs for a while.

  
  


Maybe the Doc…Cas could give him pointers on how to put that thing on by himself. It really shouldn’t be that difficult. Maybe Adam knew a trick. It was Sunday tomorrow, so no one would be coming by until at least the afternoon, but that was OK. He had plenty of food and could sleep in if he wanted. 

He brought his mind back to the songs and played along with the live version of Simple Man.

Forget your lust for the rich man’s gold

All that you need is in your soul

He started to think about Monday morning and what answers he may find out about the foreclosure notice. He was glad he’d gotten the barn reno’d and rented it to Cas. It was nice to know a family was living there. He definitely needed the income now, but the rent was a drop in the bucket compared to what he needed to come up with. He started thinking of ways to come up with that much money, but quickly decided to stop going down that road when he realized he had downed his entire beer and was heading to the fridge for another. He did get another, but set that as his final one for the evening. Since the notice came, he knew he’d been drinking a lot and Miracle kept sending him cues.

He picked his guitar back up and began to sing and play along to the last song on that side of the album, Take Your Time.

When he got to the lyrics:

Take your time, my sweet baby

Take your time, my blue eyed son

Well, you might never have his money

But you won’t miss no rich man’s fun.

He realized that in the back of his mind the entire time since he’d picked up his guitar, he’d been thinking of a blue eyed man. He’d definitely like to have some of that rich man’s fun. He had to admit that Castiel was a beautiful man. He had a quiet intensity and a quirky formality, but it was not an affectation, from what Dean observed. He was actually reserved and somewhat awkward in his personality, as if he was constantly on the edge of feeling utterly lost in the company of others.

Dean thought about when he was in the hospital and the way the doctor kept winking at him, smiling awkwardly, the smashing of the ice cream on him, which he still had the man’s handprint visible on his arm, and the way everything he does seems to rub Dean the wrong way.

  
  


Before Castiel had gotten here, Adam had told him that talk around the hospital was that the doctor’s moving here was some sort of punishment for “lewd and lascivious conduct unbecoming a physician under contract to the DiRoCo Health, the parent corporation.” Apparently, he’d been involved in some type of, possibly, underage orgy ring, but nothing could be proven. That prospect was likely where Dean’s aversion came from, and he’d pretty much decided not to rent the barn to someone so despicable. 

  
  


However, Adam later told Dean that the information was supposedly wrong and there was nothing involving underage anything. It _was_ something to do with orgies, but orgies and photographs in which Dr. NoWay featured as the star and lone man in a pile of women. And it was some head honcho’s jealous kid, named Esther or something, that was being a vindictive by getting the doctor in hot water over it. It was never found out if this Esther was jealous of not participating in the orgy or if she was a jilted lover. Dean didn’t want to rent to a cheating lowlife, but he decided to rent to the man and just charge more, because what the doc did was his business, and the corporation was picking up half the rent anyway. 

  
  


After getting to know the doctor a little, Dean was unsure if any of the story was true. He tried imagining the doctor asking a woman out on a date, but he was hard pressed to see it happening. Then again, you never really know what people are like behind closed doors. 

  
  


Dean thought about what these photographs could be. Was it a blackmail thing maybe? Wow, “piles” of women. Dean himself had been with twins twice and once a set of triplets shared between him and Lee, but that’s just five people total. How many women is a pile?

  
  


Dean closed his eyes and lay his head back picturing what it’d be like to be in bed with a pile of women. That’d have to be an awfully large bed or one of those exotic harem rooms with cushions and pillows everywhere. He imagined some type of “I Dream of Jeannie” bottle room filled with beds and women and beer and him laying in the middle of it. Arms and legs, hands and lips, breasts and butts, running all over his body. He rubbed his dick through his pants and sighed.

  
  


He tugged the drawstring of the pajama pants to untie them and pulled the waistband down and underneath his balls in the front. He was already growing firm and slapped his cock against his leg and began stroking it until it was rock hard. He imagined many hands slowly removing his clothing and the feel of multiple bodies moving over and around him, like a snake pit filled with naked flesh writhing and twining together in rhythmic yearning. He thought of the feel of silken veils and velvety pillows. Breasts in his face, sucking a nipple here, pinching a nipple there, running his hand to cup a firm ass as he slipped it down between lush cheeks and found juicy wetness. Fingers delving in to explore, slipping back to find a tight, but quivering asshole. Fingers so wet that lube almost wasn’t even necessary.

  
  


He pinched and twirled the hard nubs of his own nipples as he envisioned having them sucked and bitten while someone lightly swirled their tongue around it. He thought of the feel of lips on his dick and the feel of being sucked off to the edge of orgasm, but not being allowed the follow through. And suddenly, his imagination gave him a masculine arm around him, rolling him backwards into their arms. He could almost feel an erect cock pressing against his backside as he took a deep breath, thinking about being taken from behind and not see who it was in a sea of bodies pleasuring each other. He felt the hot, hard length of it slide into the cleft of his buttocks. He squeezed the top of his dick and began to rub his thumb over the head in tantalizing circles, spreading the slick pre-cum before it became sticky. He felt his chin and throat grasped by strong hands with long, slender fingers, pulling his head back against rough stubble. A now familiar gruff voice whispered, “I’m going to fuck you now, Mr. Winchester.”

  
  


Moaning, he stroked his cock a few last times as he came, cum jetting straight up and arcing over his pants and t-shirt. He gasped for air and squeezed a few strokes more as the last twitching throbs of his spent dick faded. Fondling his still-swollen cock, he looked up at the ceiling gasping to catch his breath. He closed his lids and had a vision of blue eyes and a firm round tight ass. 

  
  


“Crap!” Dean looked down at his clothes. He grabbed his beer and downed the dregs. “Now I have to struggle to clean up again and change.

  
  


He finished cleaning up in the bathroom, made sure Miracle had gone out and was settled, and wheeled himself, naked, to the bed. He decided he wasn’t even going to struggle into clothes again tonight, after rubbing out another one while cleaning up. He was too hampered by the wheelchair, and to be honest, lack of patience alongside anxiety, to squeeze into the laundry room to constantly wash the minimal amount of clothing he had downstairs.

  
  


Dean maneuvered himself on to the bed and under the covers. He was tired but wired. He turned on the TV, as Miracle jumped up next to him and climbed into his lap. He bent his head down to snuggle her in a hug and was immediately engulfed by the light scent of a heady cologne. He raised his head baffled as to why she smelled that way. He looked up at the television as he thought and was presented with the yearning blue eyes of Jake Gyllenhaal as Jack Twist, reaching over to pull Ennis’ hand under the covers and onto his crotch.

  
  


It hit him like a blast furnace. He had caught the same subtle scent wafting in the light breeze from Castiel on the porch earlier. He felt his cock engorging with blood. He buried his face in Miracle’s fur and inhaled deeply. It was intoxicating. He struggled to get his right hand under the sheets and around his cock. He buried his face further into Miracle’s fur and inhaled deeply, seeing Castiel’s blue eyes in his mind. 

  
  


Usually, after having a long self-gratification session, the final ones took a while longer to reach climax, but the combination of scent, the sounds of the “tent scene” rutting coming from the television, and the vision of the blue eyes, all served to bring him to an almost instantaneous all encompassing orgasm. He lay there for several minutes, cum all over his chest, just staring at the ceiling again overwhelmed by the intensity. 

  
  


Eventually he half sat up, imagining what an image he’d present if anyone had actually been watching him.

  
  


“Get down Miracle.” He was not proud of himself.

  
  


He reached for the tissue box on the bedside table and cleaned himself off. 

  
  
  



	13. A Sunday Kind of Love

**Sunday. November 8th, 2020.**

Castiel woke bleary eyed, but surprisingly refreshed at nearly 9am. He heard a ruckus from downstairs and began to make his way down to see what the children were up to. At the top of the stairs, he caught the smell of bacon and coffee. 

  
  


“Aw, Dad!” Jack said in disappointment, “we were almost finished and were going to bring you breakfast in bed.”

  
  


“Yeah, I just popped the toast down when the coffee was done.” Claire stomped her foot. “You always ruin our delivery of breakfast in bed for you because you don’t stay in bed long enough!”

  
  


“I’m sorry. I know, this does happen every time. I think my stomach smells the cooking before I’m awake and makes me get up.” Castiel came around the island, gave them each a kiss on the forehead and proceeded to fix his coffee.

  
  


“And to what do I owe this honor this morning?” Castiel inquired suspiciously.

  
  


“Abject hunger, Dad. We’re just starving. I was just going to make eggs and toast with some fruit, but Hoover over here wanted bacon and grits on the side and biscuits.” Claire rolled her eyes. “At least grits are better than mushy oatmeal.”

  
  


“Hey, I’m a growing boy! I need sustenance in vast quantities.” Jack was just finishing grating cheese in a bowl.

“This is enough for breakfast for two days.” Castiel began scooping eggs on his plate.

  
  


“Who eats biscuits  _ and  _ toast?” Claire looked disgusted.

  
  


“I think I can finish it before lunch, Dad.” Jack said ignoring Claire. His plate was a mound of eggs, grits, biscuits, bacon, grapes, a orange and two slices of toast.

  
  


“We’re going to go to see the pond after we eat. Are you coming, Dad?” Claire asked between popping grapes into her mouth.

  
  


“Yes, I’ll tag along. I haven’t really had a chance to look around this place much yet.”

  
  


“When can we get our fishing gear from Uncle Gabe’s?” 

  
  


Castiel started to answer, but stared open mouthed at Jack’s almost empty plate. 

  
  


“We just sat down to eat. How are you almost finished?”

  
  


Jack just smiled and patted his belly as he bit into his second biscuit.

  
  


“After breakfast I’ll have to call Gabriel to see if he’s home, then I can pop over.”

  
  


They finished eating, cleaned the kitchen and got dressed for the day. 

  
  


“I’m going to call your uncle now and take a walk to the mailbox to see if we’ve gotten anything.”

  
  


“Me and Claire are just going to run to the pond to see it real quick,” Jack exclaimed hopping as he shoved his foot in his shoe.

  
  


“I’ll meet you there. You should be careful though. And watch for snakes!” Castiel called as they ran in the opposite direction.

  
  


As he walked down the driveway towards the front gate, Castiel had just pulled out his phone to call Gabriel when it began to ring.

  
  


“Good morning, Gabriel. I was just about to call you.”

  
  


“Heeyy, Bro! How’s tricks? I didn’t get to get any scoop from you last night, so I figured I’d try this morning.” Gabriel was always in a cheerful mood.

  
  


“Gabriel, I prefer not to start out my morning thinking about hypotheticals.”

  
  


“Just throw me a morsel here. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

  
  


“Alright. Benny, the gentleman in the restaurant last night, has asked me to dinner and/or a few drinks out on the town in thanks for taking care of his friend. I don’t, at this juncture think it’s all platonic. At this point, as he has made several comments and physical touches that seemed more like an indication of attraction than mere incidental friendly contact.”

  
  


“Oh, Bro, of course he wants you! I mean look at yourself! Besides, I saw the way he ‘accidentally’ brushed his hand against yours. That was no accident. Big guy has a thing for you. And I gotta say, those eyes, that smile? Don’t wait too long to say yes or that bear might get away.”

  
  


“I, uh…I already said yes.” Castiel waited for the loud whooping to fade before he held the phone near his ear again.

  
  


“I’m happy for you. Seriously, it’s been too long, baby bro. This is a good thing. This is a very good thing.” Gabriel rarely spoke seriously about his deeper emotions, and Castiel felt his eyes tear up.

  
  


“It’s just a possible date, but you’re right, Gabe. Baby steps, but at least I’m walking them.”

  
  


“So, I’m going in to Witchita this morning and thought the kiddos might like a trip back home to the city. I know tomorrow is their first day at their new school, so I thought I’d alleviate some of their anxiety by having a day in the city,” then he added unconvincingly, “which I was going to anyway. Give you a bit of you time? 

  
  


“You know I can’t say no to this, because I’d never hear the end of it if they knew I did.” Castiel accused. “What time should they be ready?”

  
  


“Well, I’m just heading to my car now. 15, 20 minutes?”

  
  


“Before you leave they were requesting their fishing gear from you, so please bring it along.”

  
  


“Can do. See you in a bit”

  
  


“Oh, and Bro, if you’re not busy with the kiddos today, maybe you could go into town this afternoon, say around 3:30 or anytime before 4 when the Sunday Farmer’s Market is getting ready to close down. Help a certain someone close down his booth, take a blue collar man out for dinner?”

  
  


“What?” Castiel played dumb.

  
  


“You heard me.” 

  
  


He looked at his phone as it went silent.

  
  


Castiel found nothing in the mailbox and turned around to make his way to the pond. It was a beautiful morning for a walk, but he found that just the act of walking was causing the abuse he gave himself last night to make itself known. He was tender and extremely sensitive. Unbidden, his mind was suddenly filled with musings of his fantasies of the night before. That combined with his current penile sensitivity was enough to get his blood flowing.

  
  


“For God’s sake! Why?!” Castiel yelled at his burgeoning erection. “Didn’t you have enough last night…and this morning!?!”

  
  


When he awoke earlier, he had planned just to use the bathroom and head downstairs. However, his persistent morning wood had other ideas. He had to abuse his already abused flesh once again, before he could think of having the children seeing him in such a state. He had to stop and let things go down before he continued on to the pond. He found he needed to slow his pace so things wouldn’t rub as much. Going commando was not a good idea this morning. At this point, Gabriel would arrive to pick up the children before he even got to the pond to tell them he was coming.

  
  


When he finally reached the pond he found Claire and Jack at the very edge of the water, each with a stick, bending over yelling at each other about where to place their sticks. Castiel came up to see what they were poking at.

  
  


“I hope there’s no dead animal you all are poking with sticks.”

  
  
  


“No, look.” Jack pointed.

  
  


“We think it’s the dog’s, Miracle’s collar.” Claire explained

  
  
  


“See it’s stuck on that branch.”

  
  
  


“Oh, yes. OK, well I just talked to your Uncle Gabe and he’s going into Wichita…”

  
  
  


“Awwww! What about our gear?” They yelled simultaneously.

  
  
  


“Let me finish. He is bringing your gear, but he wants to take you both with him as your last hurrah before school tomorrow.”

  
  
  


“Yay! When’s he coming?” Claire asked.

  
  
  


“He’s on his way now, so if you want to change your attire or fix your hair differently, you’ll need to hurry up. And you both should hit the bathroom before you leave.”

  
  
  


“Thanks, Dad!” They said in unison. They both kissed a cheek and ran towards the house.

  
  


Castiel picked up a stick, turned to the pond, and though it was a bit of an awkward struggle leaning over the water, he was able to fish the collar off of the submerged tree branch without plunging headfirst into the pond.

  
  


By the time he got back to the house, he saw that Gabriel was just turning off the road. Castiel walked inside, called up the stairs to let the kids know, and walked out to meet his brother.

  
  
  


“Tootles, Hot Stuff!” Gabriel smiled, elbow hanging out his open window.

  
  


“Good morning.” Castiel couldn’t help but smile back.

  
  


“Word on the streets is that you have more than one suitor, you little vixen.” Gabriel turned his truck off and jumped out. “Spill!”

  
  


Castiel frowned. “Who have you been talking to?”

  
  


“Anna said you told her there was a ‘them’ not just a singular ‘her’.” Gabriel put his arm over Castiel’s shoulder as he watched his brother’s distressed eye roll. 

  
  


“Relax, I didn’t say anything. Not my place. You know I don’t out anyone,” Gabriel played wounded.

  
  


“I know, it’s just a lot to deal with all of a sudden, and out of the blue.” Castiel hesitated. “It’s just… I don’t understand why this is occurring. It’s not like men are crawling out of the woodwork, but two, possibly three men showing interest in me, when I haven’t had anyone, of any gender, give me a second glance in years.”

  
  


“Woah, woah, woah. That’s not true and you know it. How many times last year did you ask me to run block for you?” Gabriel turned Castiel towards him and started to count down on his fingers. “There was, well, first of all my new partner when I was still at the WPD. She was the hottest cop in Wichita, but you kept shying away.”

  
  


Castiel nodded, remembering.

  
  


“There were Anna’s two.TWO coworkers.” Gabriel held up two fingers and turned it to three to indicate his tally so far.

  
  


“The girl at the coffee shop, four nurses at your Christmas party alone, Jack’s social studies teacher, Claire’s photography teacher, who I must say, I wanted to jump his bones, but he couldn’t even see me through his rose colored glasses he had for you at the student exhibition.” Gabriel checked his hand count.

  
  


“That’s not even mentioning the twins’ former pediatrician who kept inviting you to medical seminars, conventions, charity events, and even tried to get you to join his book club. Man, he was gone on you for years!” Gabe put his fingers down.

  
  


“Well, that was different, because they were all people I knew. They weren’t strangers.” Castiel tried to deny.

  
  


“Bro. It was from day one with each one of them. You walked in the room and their eyes were attached to you like syrup on pancakes.”

  
  


Gabriel got closer to Castiel and put one hand on his shoulder and pointed at him, “No, it’s  _ you  _ that’s different. All this mess you dealt with from the fallout of your girl’s art show has given you freedom. People might not know all of you, but think they do, and it’s given you a freedom to not have to hide for fear of judgment, because you know they’ve already judged you. And even though you’re not as bad as many of the prudish conclusions people have jumped to, there’s little you could do now to make anyone have a harsher judgment and dole out worse consequences, because you’re already living them. And you’ve looked around and seen these consequences are not so bad.”

  
  


Castiel leaned his head to one side, staring at Gabriel. He might be right, Castiel thought to himself.

  
  


“You can now be the person you were always meant to be. All you have to do is let go of the past and grab the life that’s in front of you. No fear. You got this, you know it, and other people, the kind of people you want,” Gabriel said raising his eyebrows suggestively, “well,  _ they _ are picking up on that. You’ve turned on your Gaydar, Baby Bro.”

  
  


Gabriel's smile was so big and contagious, Castiel began chuckling at the preposterousness of what his brother said. But as he ran it over in his head, he had to admit that Gabriel had a point. He nodded, laughing, then tearfully, as Gabriel pulled him into a warm laughing embrace. 

  
  


“I’m proud of you, Cassie.” Gabriel stood on his tiptoes and kissed Castiel’s forehead. 

  
  


Castiel wiped the tears with the back of his hand as they heard the kitchen door opening, Jack and Claire spilling out in a walking wrestling match.

  
  


“Hey, Uncle Gabe!” They said in unison as they ran up to hug him.

  
  


“Fishing gear’s in the bed,” he threw his thumb over his shoulder.

  
  


“You know I start my first official week with the CCSO tomorrow, too, so I’m just as nervous as you two.”

  
  


“CCSO?” Claire asked.

  
  


“Chase County Sheriff’s Office. Don’t you pay attention to anything? Jack chided Claire.

  
  


“You worked there this past week though.” Claire looked at her uncle in confusion.

  
  


“Nah, it was just an introductory orientation and kind of a final interview. Real shift starts bright and early Monday morning, just like you two.”

  
  


“No, it’s not the same.” Claire argued.

  
  


“Claire has a point. Plus you’re an adult. Y’all have everything easy.” Jack quipped.

  
  


Castiel and Gabriel both laughed out loud with that pronouncement.

  
  


“Yeah, Jack’s right! You already met the people you have to work with, so you’ve got it easy. Jack and I have to go in and be ‘The New Kids’ and in a small podunk town where everyone’s known each other since the womb practically, and maybe not even just hypothetically.”

  
  


“Claire! What did I tell you about disparaging the people of this town?!” Castiel upbraided her.

  
  


“What? No one is here to hear me say anything!” Claire gestured around them indicating the rural setting, “we’re in the middle of no where.”

  
  


“Oh, missy. You’ve got to change your attitude,” Gabriel warned her. “It doesn’t matter if you say a thing in closed company or on a soap box in the town square, the point is you need to change your thinking. And if you’re going to think and say things like that, why would you hide it from the people you’re deriding? If you think it’s nothing to be ashamed of to have those thoughts, then say it out loud and give people a chance to defend themselves. But you hide behind whispers and closed company, so you have to ask yourself why.” Gabriel looked her intensely in the eyes.

  
  


“So, my question to you is ‘why?’ Why are you hiding how you feel about people you don’t know, haven’t met, and sure as hell haven’t heard their stories?” He had put his hands on her shoulders and bent at the knee to look her in the eyes. 

  
  


Claire shrugged and looked away.

  
  


“I’ll tell you why. It’s because you’re scared and unhappy at having to move, leave your old home and friends behind. You're nervous with meeting new people, being the outsider and having the focus on you, having to prove to a close knit town that you are worthy of them. So you do what people do when they go to war. You dehumanize your enemy by name calling and denigration. You’re doing what you’re doing out of fear and misplaced anger.”

  
  


Claire’s eyes sparkled with tears held in.

  
  


“But that’s not you, sweetums. You’re better than that! You’re the bravest girl I know. To make friends, you have to be a friend. And if you go in there with the attitude that you’re better than them, and that’s the attitude they’ll be expecting from you, well, you’ll be playing right into the stereotype. So, walk your walk. You’re brave, kind, caring and feisty. Be that. Present that to these people that you know are waiting to tear you apart, because they are just as afraid of your opinion as you are of theirs.” Gabriel looked at Jack. “And this goes for you, too.”

  
  


“Now come here.” He pulled them both in for a hug.

  
  


Claire wiped her tears as she nodded her head. “OK. OK, Uncle Gabe. You’re right.” She hugged him again and ran after Jack to put their fishing gear under the carport.

  
  


Castiel and Gabriel looked at each other nodding. Gabe had always been the twins’ second parent and so often Castiel felt unending gratitude. “You always have a way of getting them to understand what I try to tell them, but never seem to express it with the correct words.”

  
  


“Hey, that’s what I’m here for.” Gabriel slapped his younger brother on the back.

  
  


Castiel waved goodbye and blew a kiss as the truck pulled out onto the road. He knew he didn’t have to set a ‘be home by’ time because Gabriel was supposed to be at the sheriff’s office by 6am.

  
  


He put the fishing gear in the carport storage closet and picked up Miracle’s collar he’d tossed on the bench. Maybe he’d drive over and drop it off at Mr. Winchester’s place. He really didn’t know what he was going to do with his day, but right now all he really wanted to do was go jerk off again, and maybe put on some boxer briefs or change into something besides jeans if he was going to continue going commando on his Sunday, because, damn, he was getting some unpleasant overstimulation as things were now.

  
  


He washed the dog collar at the kitchen sink and set it aside to dry. As he washed his hands, thought about what Gabriel told him about Benny having a booth at the town’s Farmer’s Market. Maybe he’d go over there earlier than closing just to look around. He didn’t want to appear like he’d planned it out like Gabriel told him, but he also didn’t want to get there late and miss him. He decided he’d make the attempt. 

  
  


“If you’re jumping in, just take the plunge, Castiel!” He pep talked himself.

  
  


He got himself a glass of water and leaned against the cabinets as he drank. He definitely knew now that Benny found him attractive, or at least prospective dating material, after Gabriel’s confirmation, and pondering their previous interactions much of last night… when he wasn’t busy fantasizing about a dozen different ways he could sodomize Dean Winchester.

  
  


He felt his cock stir against his thigh and reached down to grip it tightly and give it a few tugs through his jeans. He licked his lips and closed his eyes to see green eyes staring back at him. Moaning he put his glass down and gave a few more tugs through his thick jeans. He unbuttoned and unzipped his fly and shoved his hand down his pants. He lightly teased his finger in the tip of his foreskin, barely grazing the head ever so softly. He pushed his jeans down to his thighs to give himself better access. 

  
  


Squeezing at the root and giving slow tugging strokes, he remembered the hand lotion bottle next to the sink. He turned and pumped several pumps and slathered it on his swollen dick. Dean Winchester’s green eyes, muscular chest and fantasy tight ass swam before Castiel’s eyes as he swirled his palm over and around the head of his fat, hard cock with every down stroke of his foreskin until he cried out at the almost painful orgasm. He leaned over, holding onto his dick with both hands like it was the only thing keeping him upright on his feet. His entire body spasmed expelling the last droplets creamy white cum at the last few waves of his orgasm.

  
  


He looked down at the mess of dripped lotion and bodily fluids on his jeans. Well, it was a good thing he’d planned on changing them anyway. He washed his hands and carefully tried to remove his shoes without making more of a mess. Eventually he was able to work the jeans down and off his feet. He put them to soak in the wash and ascended the stairs in pantsless glory.

  
  


Castiel stood looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He’d just gotten out of the shower where he once again had belabored the obvious by committing mass spermicide. He leaned in to examine his face more closely. Same nose he always felt was too wide. Same blue eyes he always felt were a little too gray. Same thick lips he was always teased about as a child. His hair had not changed, if anything, it may have been a bit more unkempt and spiky lately as he didn’t much feel like spending time trying to tame his unruly locks. He backed up and looked at the length of his body turning and looking at his backside from over his shoulder. He looked down his torso, to buttocks to legs. He faced the mirror head on again and did a second scan of the front of his body. He could not detect any perceptible change. Same muscle toned abs, same flat belly and V from obliques down towards the pelvis, same thick, muscular thighs he was told made him look too fat as a child.

  
  


He stared at himself full length again. What was it then? Was Gabriel right? Did he unconsciously decide he was ready for more? Did he “turn on his Gaydar”? Why was he so easily, and constantly, aroused these past few days? Is this what they mean by the term “feeling myself” that was so popular now? At this point, it was on the verge of addiction just in the past day. 

  
  


“Have some dignity, Castiel. Get a grip on yourself. Wait no, you’ve had too much of a grip on yourself already.” He chastised himself.

  
  


He shook his head and toweled his hair once more. He lightly put on cologne making sure not to miss dabbing a tiny drop of cologne on the top of head. He’d heard long ago this was an optimal place where the scalp oils made it long lasting, but the heat coming from the body was constantly dispersing the scent subtly around the wearer. Though it made sense, he was never actually sure if it was true or not. But it never failed him when he was looking to make an impression on someone with whom he wanted to possibly become intimate.

  
  


He quickly did the minimum effort on his hair. He threw on his slacks, a pair of slim fit pants in a mini toffee and white check, paired it with a muscle fit, long sleeved, button up jersey shirt in a washed gray-blue, and light tan leather flat sneakers. It was one of his favorite shirts, fitting him like a glove, showing every bump and bulge of muscle even through the long sleeves. The color matched his eyes perfectly.

  
  


Castiel had dressed to impress women a thousand times. This was the first time he had consciously and with absolute premeditated intent, dressed to impress a man. He hoped his ensemble was plain enough to appear casual and not like a citified fop unused to rural life, yet stylish enough to grab Benny’s attention without it looking like he was trying too hard. He was nervous. He grabbed his shades, phone and keys, and took a final look in the mirror. 

  
  


Stopping in the kitchen, he took a shot of courage in the form of two fingers of vodka. He picked up Miracle’s collar, grabbed his black leather jacket off the coat hook by the door and walked to his car. Castiel leaned his head on the wheel gripping it tightly with both hands. He sat still like that for several minutes just trying to calm his racing heart and breathing.

  
  


“You can do this. You can do this.” He repeated the mantra like a life saving prayer as he drove. He was glad he’d decided to stop by to drop off Miracle’s collar. It’d give him a bit of distraction from what he was about to do, from this major life change he was about to undertake.

  
  


Castiel pulled to a stop in Dean’s circular driveway in front of the steps. He opened the car door and then closed it again. He grabbed the wheel tightly like it was his only life preserver. His nerves were jangly. He felt his skin abuzz with electrical impulses. His life was going to change irrevocably. He was on a precipice and getting ready to swan dive, but around him life for everyone else was continuing as normal. The sky was still blue. The sun still shone brightly. Gazing up, he watched as a flock of geese passed over. There was no one to hold his hand. No one to do it for him. Many people did this everyday and with lesser support than he had. Besides, he wasn’t doing it right this instant. Looking down, he took a deep breath and got out of the car.

  
  


As he stood, he looked up to see Dean Winchester sitting in his wheelchair at the open front door. He hesitated, then closed the car door and headed up the stairs.

  
  


“I was wondering if I was going to have to go down and help you out for a minute there, Doc—Cas.” Dean was looking at him with concern. “You alright?”

  
  


“Yes. Fine.” Castiel steeled himself. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  
  


“C’mon in, I know it’s just after 10:30, but you look like you could use a seat and a drink.” Dean wheeled his chair around and indicated the living area, “take a seat.”

  
  


“Uh, ok, sure, for a minute. Thank you.” Castiel pulled the door closed behind them. “Is this okay?” He said, indicating the door. 

  
  


“Yeah, yeah. It’s good.” Dean waved it off. “What can I get you to drink? You look like you could use a smooth stiff one.” 

  
  


“What!?” Castiel was startled by Dean’s choice of words. He immediately became self-conscious and had a nervous guilty feeling. He sat on the edge of the sofa.

  
  


“I know what you need.” Dean rolled over to a tall narrow cabinet with glass doors where Castiel could see quite a few bottles of premium liquors.

  
  


He took a deep breath. Why did everything Dean was saying sound like sexual advances. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ he thought to himself. He could barely swallow and his mouth was dry as an alum. His heart felt as if it raced in time with the buzzing of electricity on his skin. He realized he was on the verge of a panic attack and put his head between his knees and took deep slow breaths. 

  
  


Castiel looked up to see Dean sitting there looking at him for a minute and then he whistled a light, sharp tone. Miracle came bounding in, alert and concerned. 

  
  


“I’m OK, girl. I’m OK.” She circled Dean, sniffing him the entire time. She stood and placed her paws on his lap. He made a hand signal Castiel could not see and pushed her off him.

  
  


“Hey, man,” Dean addressed him. “Give a light whistle like I just did.” 

  
  


“Go to Cas,” he instructed Miracle. “Go to Cas,” he repeated pointing to Castiel.

  
  


Castiel whistled and Miracle ran up to him. Where usually she was all dog smiles and happy tail wagging, now her ears were perked up, tail straight out, intent sniffing and finally paws on his lap, and head dipping and nuzzling. Castiel pet her as she nuzzled closer. He leaned down and hugged her to himself. Petting, hugging and nuzzling as she made light whimpering sounds and slowly began to wag her tail. Castiel felt on the verge of tears, but would not let himself cry. Miracle nuzzled him and lightly pawed at his arms as if she were hugging him.

  
  


Dean eventually rolled up, but sat quietly next to him. When Castiel turned his head from where it was buried in Miracle’s fur, Dean reached out a hand and looked to him for permission. Castiel nodded and Dean placed his hand on Cas’ forearm giving the gentlest of rubs. Castiel closed his eyes and buried his face back in Miracle’s fur, hugging her closer again and rocking gently. Dean’s soothing strokes worked their way higher onto Cas’ biceps and shoulders as he hugged Miracle tighter. Cas rolled his shoulder into Dean’s hand. Dean gently kneaded the shoulder muscle and moved his hand towards the neck as Castiel leaned further into the comforting touch. Dean reached over as far as he could to knead the muscle of the neck and upper back.

  
  


Eventually, Castiel let out a deep sigh and stopped rocking. He nuzzled Miracle one last time and whispered a thank you in her scruff. He could still feel Dean’s hand kneading his neck muscle as his body leaned into it more and an involuntary, “unhh” slipped from his lips. He tightened up slightly and turned to Dean, blushing a little, “I, uh, I guess I’m more tense than I realized.”

  
  


He sat upright as Dean’s hand slid off his shoulder. “I’m terribly sorry for intruding on you and bringing my emotional problems to your door.”

  
  


“No. No apologies. It’s no big deal, man. I know more than anyone else how you can’t always choose when, where and how these things will hit.” Dean shook his head, accepting no remorse from Castiel.

  
  


Dean gave a quick pat to Castiel’s forearm. “I’m serious. Let it all go. If anything I’m glad you showed up at my door, because if you ever needed someone to be there and understand what you’re going through, even if you don’t know why yourself,” he pointed his thumbs towards himself, “then I’m your huckleberry.” Smiling, he patted Castiel’s forearm one last time.

  
  


He backed the wheelchair up slightly.

  
  


“Now, if you feel you need to talk about anything, I’m right here. If not, I’m still right here, and I have drinks. Your choice, your pick.” He said picking up two bottles from his lap and holding them out for Castiel to choose.

  
  


Castiel looked at Dean. His now green-as-spring-grass eyes searching his face for what he could not fathom, but they were bright and hopeful, giving Castiel a feeling of lightness and peace.

  
  


“I don’t really know much about different and fine liquors. I wouldn’t be a very good judge. I don’t even know what those are.” Castiel laughed nervously.

  
  


“Aw, man! You wound me!” Dean pulled the two bottles against his chest in mock pain.

  
  


“This.” He said, holding up one bottle, “This here is Glendronach 18.” He closed his eyes with a dreamy look of fond remembrance. “It’s pretty much perfect for any time. One sip and you taste hints of leather, tobacco, polished wood, and sweet sherry and those flavors stay with you.” He kissed the bottle. “I was actually thinking about drinking some of this later tonight.” He handed the bottle to Castiel to scrutinize.

  
  


“Now,  _ this  _ one,” Dean raised the second bottle, “I haven’t ever tasted, but it’s a few years old, and was the 15 year anniversary edition of the distillery. Compass Box Hedonism Quindecimus Whisky! It’s got a sweetness to it. Think honey, caramel, butterscotch, vanilla and flowers, but it’s supposed to have a heavy richness, but no deep peaty, earthy hints. It’s a rare blended Scotch Whisky. They only made about 6,000 bottles of this one. I won this one in a bet.” He proudly handed the bottle to Castiel.

  
  


Castiel set the first bottle down and looked over the second bottle. He really didn’t know what he was looking for or reading on the label, but there was something decadent, and yes, hedonistic, about the bottle of Hedonism Quindecimus. It’s label had hints of the Garden of Eden—flowers, butterflies, birds, reptiles, thorns, tentacles and women—one with a Roman emperor? popping out of her head. 

  
  


“Well,” Castiel said, setting the second bottle on the table, “thinking about what is going on in my life at the moment, I think I’ll have to go with Hedonism, thorns and all.” He nodded his head, several times looking at the bottle.

  
  


“I mean if you’re willing to open it.” He looked at Dean. He really could use a drink. He looked into the green eyes that were just staring back.

  
  


…

  
  


Dean shook his head quickly, as if he were trying to clear cobwebs. “Absolutely!” He reached over and grabbed the bottles, placed them on his lap and wheeled back to the bar.

  
  


“Would you like some assistance?” Castiel asked.

  
  


“No. I got you. Be right there.”

  
  


Castiel turned and looked at the spacious living area. The ceilings were 12 feet high on the entire first and second floor, but the living area had large floor to ceiling windows that opened onto the front porch. The decor was a combination of antiques and industrial, but the coffee table was some type of old small piano harp soundboard topped by a piece of custom cut tempered glass. There were photographs of Dean, his children, a woman he assumed was Dean’s deceased wife, others of family and friends, and quite a few of a big black shiny classic car. ‘Impala’ Castiel thought, definitely a late 60’s vehicle when cars were big and fast.

  
  


The box which he’d delivered to Dean yesterday caught his eyes. It was open and some of the contents were spread out on the table. Several copies of new 2021 calendars, one opened to the January page, were laying on the table, along with a large envelope that must’ve held the photographs splayed out on top of it. Castiel caught his breath and swallowed. He leaned over and picked up the calendar. It was a muscular, shirtless firefighter…with green eyes, freckles and a tattoo. It was Dean Winchester. He took a deep breath and feasted his eyes at the sight before him.

  
  


Castiel’s gaze was drawn to the fan of photos on the envelope. He set the calendar down and looked at the photographs. They must’ve been the photographer’s proofs from the calendar photoshoot. He could feel his heart rate increase as he quickly looked over the fanned out photos a second time. Now he really needed a drink.

  
  


He heard Dean rolling up with rock glasses clinking on a tray holding a small clear ice bucket filled with round balls of ice, a bottle of spring water and the bottle of Hedonism.

  
  


“I wasn’t sure how you took it. Straight, rocks, chaser? So I have a bit of it all.” Dean smiled up at Castiel.

…

  
  


Castiel took a moment to let what Dean said soak in. ‘I’m still hearing sexual innuendo in everything this man says,’ he thought to himself.

  
  


…

“I…I don’t really know. I usually drink it straight or with a mixer like Coke.” Castiel shrugged. “I’m used to Jack Daniels, Makers Mark and Crown.” He ducked his head with slight embarrassment at his provincial alcohol knowledge.

  
  


“Straight up it is then.” Dean smiled at him trying to put him at ease. He opened the bottle, poured some in both glasses and handed one to Castiel.

  
  


Smiling, he tipped his glass to nose it. Castiel followed suit. 

  
  


“Close your eyes.” Dean instructed. “Take in the scent until you can taste it. Then, and only then take a sip. Swish once or twice, hold, then swallow.” 

  
  


Castiel could not take his eyes off Dean. The way his fine textured hair obediently stayed in the neat multiple directions in a soft, fluffy spikiness. The way his delicately arched eyebrows crowned his perfect freckled eyelids, decorated with lightly fluttering perfect, fine lashes that glowed with golden highlights. Castiel was only glad the green eyes were closed because it gave him a chance to enjoy gazing on the beautiful symmetry of Dean’s finely chiseled features for the few seconds he tried to draw out into minutes.

  
  


Dean opened his eyes to look at him.

  
  


…

  
  


Castiel blinked. “I…I wanted to watch you to make sure I did it correctly,” he lied. He followed what he remembered of Dean’s instructions. He did smell the taste of a sweetness, a hint of caramel, butterscotch and honey. He could taste the scent of sweet fragrant flowers as he swallowed. He smiled and opened his eyes.

  
  


…

  
  


…

  
  
  


Dean had been watching him the entire time. He felt a flush rise up from his neck to forehead. He couldn’t tell if it was for the drink or the thrill and self-consciousness of knowing that Dean Winchester was silently inspecting the micro expressions that he knew likely crossed his face. He broke into a slow smile and nodded.

  
  


…

  
  


Dean was smiling and nodding back.

  
  


“Yeah?” He asked.

  
  


“Yeah.” Castiel smiled wider and nodded more enthusiastically. He held out his glass again. 

  
  


“OK, there!” Dean laughed and refilled their glasses. “I’d’ve thought that a rich boy like yourself would’ve grown up knowing all about the finer points of different spirits.”

  
  


“While I do admit my parents had money, and we rarely, if ever, wanted for things growing up, I had to pay for my own education through money I earned on my own, a little help from my cousin, and scholarships.” Castiel took a swallow of his drink. “I did grow up learning the finer points of wine, but learned to drink hard liquor on the streets with some “unsavory urchins from the wrong side of the tracks” as my parents called them. They kicked me out just before I turned 17, and revoked my trust fund I was to receive at 18.”

  
  


Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded.

  
  


“But don’t worry, I know I grew up in privilege,” Castiel assured him, “and I’d never diminish anyone else’s experiences.” Castiel sniffed and took another sip.

  
  


“Well, I  _ was  _ the _ “ _ unsavory urchin from the wrong side” of every track, but I taught myself and my little brother Sammy, about some of the finer things in life, and one of those things was a taste for fine spirits.” He raised his glass and drank with a smile.

  
  


“So, I, um, you’re a firefighter?” Castiel gestured at the calendars on the table.

  
  


Dean’s face colored. “Uh, yeeeaaahh.” He said slowly, hanging his head. “We do those every year, at least for the past four years. We sell them to help fund our yearly Christmas children’s gift giveaway and the rest goes into firehouse upkeep or equipment funds. It’s not a lot, but every dollar helps. Each year we’ve sold out before the new year, and each year we’ve also upped production and still sell out.”

  
  


“May I?” Castiel sniffed and pointed to a calendar and looked to Dean for permission.

  
  


Dean grinned, “Sure, by all means.”

  
  


Castiel picked up one of the closed calendars and looked at the front. “Seven Firemen…And One Hot Firewoman,” he read. He smiled and opened it. The first two pages were the introductory pages. There was an image of the firehouse and then another of the entire staff and crew. It was just an ordinary photo of a daily work day where the staff gathered outside for a group photo.

  
  


Dean grabbed the bottle, and poured them each another glass. He set the bottle down and Castiel could feel his eyes on him as he turned the page to January. He knew already from his peek before that Dean Winchester would be the January model, so he schooled his face to remain unaffected as he opened the page.

  
  


Castiel was prepared, and still, he could not help his intake of breath and involuntary swallow.

There was Dean in a rundown, old building with smoke all around him. He had on his firefighter’s boots and heavy flame retardant pants and was standing shirtless, holding the handle of an ax that was resting on the floor next to him. There was a flaming sun tattoo with a pentagram in the center. In large red open work letters was his name, Dean Winchester. There was the slim muscular chest that had helped fuel his masturbation fantasies all night. He sniffed again and smiled.

  
  


Castiel quickly flipped to another page. There was another shirtless man in suspenders firefighter pants leaning on a ladder. He flipped through several more pages until he saw Benny.

  
  


“This is your friend Benny? He’s a firefighter, too?” Benny also was shirtless, but had on an opened firefighter’s jacket and was holding a helmet, standing in a shower of rain or hose water. Castiel sniffed again. 

  
  


“Yes, Benny, and my other friend Lee, too.”

Castiel nodded and quickly flipped through the pages and eventually found the lone woman firefighter. She was tall and slender with long dark hair and hazel eyes. She wore a tight-fitting tank top with firefighter’s pants and was standing in front of a fire truck. Her name was in red on the bottom corner, Pamela Barnes. Castiel had to admit she was very attractive. He smiled and flipped through to the end.

  
  


Dean sighed. “Yeah, Pam is hot. Believe me, I know.”

  
  


Castiel looked at him. “Yes, she’s very attractive.”

  
  


“If you have any of these unspoken for, I’d be happy to purchase one, to help a good cause.” He laid the calendar back on the table. “They go all out with the photo shoot, don’t they? These are very well done.”

  
  


“Do you mind?” Castiel indicated to the fanned out photographer’s proofs.

  
  


Dean hesitated for a moment. “Sure, go ahead. It’s kind of embarrassing, in a way, to have people ogling you and objectifying you. The shoot can be fun, but also time consuming to get everything set up just so.” He watched as Castiel picked up the proofs and began to slowly go through them.

  
  


“Do you know anything about photography? Here, another refill.” Dean picked up his glass after he poured and held it out in salute towards Castiel. “Salud.”

  
  


…

  
  


“Salud.” Castiel repeated and clinked his glass to Dean’s. He sipped and set his glass back down compelled by his racing heart to continue going through the proofs.

  
  


…

  
  


“I do.” He said slowly, unsure of just how much he wanted to reveal. He sniffed again. “I have some experience as a long-time amateur photographer as well having, um…worked with a professional photographer before.”

  
  


He looked down, stopping to study each portrait. He tried to look at them with his photographer’s eye, but he was distracted by a close up of Dean’s face and the stunning beauty of his eyes as he looked up from under his helmet. Castiel couldn’t help but pause at this one. His breath caught in his throat. He looked over at Dean who was studying him.

…

  
  


“This…your—your eyes are incredible, uh, in this light.” 

  
  


…

  
  
  


“Thank you.”

  
  


…

  
  
  


Dean cleared his throat and downed the rest of his drink.

  
  
  


Castiel quickly put the photographs back on the envelope. He downed his drink and took a deep breath. He sniffed again and started to bring the back of his hand up to rub his nose which had been itching. As he did, he felt wetness on the back of his hand and looked down to see several blood drops land on the back of his hand and down the front of his shirt.

  
  


“Damn it!” He quickly leaned over and reached for a cocktail napkin from the drink tray. This resulted in more blood dripping down his shirt, on his hands, even getting on his sleeves.

  
  


“Oh, man! Let me get you a damp washcloth for your nose.” Dean quickly wheeled to pull a small towel out of the kitchen drawer, which he promptly ran in cool water, and wrung out. He wheeled back and met Castiel on halfway to the kitchen.

  
  


He had blood in several places down the front of his shirt as well as on both sleeves and a spot or two on the collar. Dean felt a little helpless as to how to help him.

  
  


“Man, I’m sorry. You get nosebleeds often?” Dean looked at the blood splatters across the front of his shirt as Castiel stood with his head tilted back trying to control the bleeding. “If you take that shirt off I can hurry and spray it with some prewash and run it through the cold cycle before it dries and stains.”

  
  
  


“Just since Friday morning.” Castiel made the mistake of looking down at his shirt which was a mistake he realized only after he saw another few drops fall on it. He quickly tilted his head back again. “I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t get any on your floor.” 

  
  


“It’s a 140 year old floor. I’m sure it’s seen worse than a drop or two or blood. Here’s a damp towel. Hold this against your nose.” Dean held out the towel for him.

  
  


Once again he looked down to reach for the towel and more blood dripped on his shirt and on Dean’s cast.

  
  
  


“Ya gotta stop looking down, man. How often do you get these?” Dean asked, looking up at Castiel struggling to undo his top button while simultaneously trying to hold the towel over his nose and holding his head back.

  
  


“Here let me. We gotta hurry and get this in the wash before it dries too long.” Dean reached up, shooed Castiel’s hand out of the way, and proceeded to begin unbuttoning his shirt starting at the bottom.

  
  
  


“I’m really sorry. And you have no idea how much I appreciate this. It’s my favorite shirt.” He placed his hand back on the side of his nose. Taking a deep breath, he explained, “well, I’ve had this happen almost twice a day each day since you punched me in the nose first thing Friday morning.”

  
  


Dean’s hands stopped unbuttoning and just grasped either side of the placket. He stared at the vein pulsing down one side of the v-cut of Castiel‘s abdomen and disappearing below his waistband. Trying to remember the incident, he leaned his head forward and down, not realizing that would put his head lightly against Castiel’s bare belly. Still holding on to both sides of the shirt, he slowly looked up, inches from flesh.

  
  


“I did that to you?” He asked softly.

  
  


Castiel pulled the towel from his face and looked down. Grass-green eyes looked back, glistening with tears threatening to spill over the edges. He had the overwhelming urge to put his hand around the back of Dean’s head, with his hair shining golden from the overhead spotlights, and pull him against his body in a hug.

  
  


“It’s not the worst thing I’ve suffered at the hands of a patient. It’s okay. I’ll live.” Castiel quickly threw his head back after Dean hung his head again, and he felt the blood begin to trickle down his nostril.

  
  


“I once had an out of control patient upend his full bedpan. It flipped, and splashed, I guess sloshed or glopped might be a better descriptive, directly in my face, but I couldn’t stop to wipe myself off until we restrained him, as he was a danger to himself.”

  
  


“Oh, ugh, I don’t even want to think about that.” Looking up again, Dean began working on the remaining two buttons. “Really, I am so, so very sor—”

  
  


Dean swallowed hard as his mouth went dry. He had finished the last button and found himself looking at a nipple ring. He couldn’t move. Just stare. He certainly did not expect this on the doctor. He was intrigued and lost in thought over the when, how, who, and what compelled or inspired the seemingly straight-laced man standing before him to jab a needle through his nipple.

  
  


“Uh, here, give me your arm and I’ll pull the sleeve so we can get your shirt off.”

  
  


Castiel lowered his right arm and waited as Dean grasped the hemmed edge and began pulling down the sleeve. Castiel kept his head tilted back, replaced his right hand on the towel, and began to turn his back towards Dean, and eventually, lowering his left arm as he turned to assist Dean in pulling the entire shirt off. But as he was turning, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Dean.

  
  


“What the…holy hell?!” Dean blurted out.

  
  


Castiel finished turning around, left arm still encumbered by the shirt sleeve now bunched at his wrist.

  
  


“Is something wrong?” He looked down in concern at Dean, who sat mouth agape, staring up at him.

  
  


“I…I…Wow! That…that had to hurt something fierce. Right?”

  
  


Castiel leaned his head to the right and furrowed his brow as he regarded Dean.

“I’m sorry? To what are you referring? Did I miss something?” He continued turning as his wrist slipped out of his sleeve, and looked around the room and floor to check for more blood. “No, it only hurt the first evening after you punched me.”

  
  


“What? No! Your back, man! What you have on your back!” Dean rubbed his face and grabbed Castiel’s waist to turn him so he could look at his back again. “Wow, just wow! That’s amazing!”

  
  


Castiel nodded, suddenly realizing Dean was talking about his wings. So often he forgot they were there.

  
  


“Dude, that  _ had _ to hurt. Wow!” He unconsciously balled and twisted Castiel’s shirt up in his lap.

  
  


“As a matter of fact, it was not quite as painful as one would think.” Castiel raised an eyebrow. “But probably the most physical pain I’ve ever experienced.” He tilted his head back again. 

  
  


Dean nodded to the air, still ballin Castiel’s shirt in his hands in a self-soothing manner. “I bet.” He said as he realized what he was doing to the shirt. 

  
  


“Uh, let me…let me go spray some pre-wash stain remover on this and let it soak for a bit. I’ll be right back.” He backed away his wheelchair not taking his eyes off Castiel’s wings.

  
  


Castiel dabbed the towel at his nose checking for fresh blood or clotting. He picked up a few napkins from the dispenser on the kitchen island. And went to rinse the towel off in the sink. He followed Dean into the laundry room.

  
  


“Would you like to add this to the soak?”

  
  


Seemingly startled, Dean turned to see what Castiel was holding, and gave him the impression of a deer caught in headlights.

  
  


“The towel I bled all over,” Castiel squinted at him, holding out the towel.

  
  
  


Dean just stared, lip slightly quivering as he tried to form words.

  
  
  


“Are you OK?” Castiel inquired, stepping closer.

  
  
  


“Yeah, yeah. I just kind of bumped my foot into the doorframe coming in. I’m fine. But, no, toss that towel in the laundry sink there. Don’t need white fuzz getting all over your shirt.”

  
  
  


They made their way back to the living room. Castiel checked for blood on the floor and couch, but found none. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off the sight before him.

  
  
  


“I gotta ask, man.” Castiel turned to look at Dean. “Well, I don’t even know where to begin.”

  
  


He looked at Dean’s magnificent green eyes, amber grains in peridot, wide eyed and at a loss for words. He saw Dean’s right hand quietly patting the steel arm of the wheelchair where a missing arm cushion should have been.

  
  


He smiled softly and turned his back to Dean. 

  
  


“Would you like to touch them?” he said softly over his shoulder. He squatted down next to the wheelchair.

  
  


After a period of time that seemed somewhere between a split second and eons, Castiel felt the first tentative touch of Dean’s fingertips. Warmth and lightning bolts surging through him as he held his breath at the first touch.

  
  


Dean just softly and slowly ran his fingers and palms over the scarred flesh. He couldn’t speak, in awe.

  
  
  


“I got them to remember something I did. Something that…” Castiel took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling searching for the right words, “that I’d done, um, experienced, that let me…feel…something, something for the first time in a long time. Something, painful, beautiful, scary and profound. I didn’t want to ever do it again, but I didn’t ever want to forget, so I got this,” he nodded his head back towards Dean, “ so I wouldn’t forget my first wings.”

  
  


Dean nodded back, continuing to run his hands over Castiel’s back. “I don’t completely understand what you’re saying, but I get that. I get the ‘why’ I guess.”

  
  
  


His hand slowed to a stop at the bottom of the left wing tip, but he gently rubbed his thumb back and forth over the spot, hand resting on Castiel’s waist.

  
  
  


Castiel pivoted towards Dean. “There are different cuts depending on the area of the design. Some wider than others. Some are just cuts to the skin, others remove strips of flesh. Complete healing can vary depending on the size and design, maybe two months to sometimes six months. Yes, sometimes they get infected if you don’t have a reputable, experienced artist, or if you don’t take care of them properly. After care involves very painful irritation of the wound area. No, no anesthetic, no drugs, no alcohol. More than one session. Less than three years ago. And finally, yes a woman was involved.”

  
  


He looked up into Dean’s eyes, eyebrow arched in self-defensive dare at his explanation. “So, did I answer all your questions?”

  
  


Dean realized he was still holding Castiel by the waist. “I guess you did. I’m still amazed. I’ve heard of them before, seen pictures of them before, but never knew anyone with balls enough to go through something like that.” Dean was looking at Castiel in awe. 

  
  


“Well, you do now.” He smiled, rising.

  
  


“I guess I do.” Dean smiled back. He wheeled over to the table. “I don’t know about you, but I think I need another drink.” He poured one for himself and held the bottle over Castiel’s glass waiting for an answer before he poured.

  
  


“Sure. Why not. I can’t go anywhere without my shirt.” He checked his watch. “I still have plenty of time. I’m not in a big hurry.” ‘To out myself,’ he felt like adding.

  
  


“No, no you can’t. And I can understand why it’s your favorite. It’s very soft and supple. It must feel nice against the skin.” He cleared his throat and handed Castiel his glass. “How’s the nose.”

  
  


“Fine. The bleeding stopped.” Castiel looked down at Dean’s wheelchair arm. “When you left the hospital, did your chair not have a second armrest?”

  
  


Dean furtively glanced at his mocking air vent face. “Yeah, it did. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me.”

  
  


“You ripped your armrest off because you were angry?”

  
  


“Well, not on purpose.” Dean didn’t even seem ashamed. “But as long as you’re here and already noticed, maybe you can help me out and get it down before the kids come home tomorrow and see it?” Dean smiled at his luck and gave his most disarming smile.

  
  


Castiel squinted at Dean. “Get it down? From where?”

  
  


Dean pointed at the air vent above the big screen TV. “It sits there mocking me with its tongue out.”

  
  


Castiel followed his finger and burst out laughing.

  
  


“I should leave that there to teach you a lesson.” He stared at the vent. “It does look like it’s mocking you.” He laughed some more.

  
  


“See if I help put your house out if it ever catches on fire.” Dean said sullenly.

  
  


This got an even bigger laugh out of Castiel.

  
  


Dean looked at him, confused. “You  _ want _ your house to burn down?” He said in mock threat.

  
  


“My house is  _ your house,”  _ Castiel said between chuckles.

  
  


Dean opened his mouth then closed it.

  
  


“As my doctor, aren’t you obligated to make sure I heal properly and follow directions? You don’t want me trying to climb up on a ladder to get it down, do you?”

  
  


“Are you committing extortion using my Hippocratic oath as leverage? How dare!”

Castiel exclaimed with mock indignation.

  
  


“I better do it now, before I finish my drink.” He set his drink down. “Where is this ladder you speak of?” He turned suddenly back to Dean. “I’d like to see your attempt at carrying it in and setting it up from your wheelchair.” He raised his pointer finger in the air, “I call your bluff!”

  
  


“Crutches!” Dean yelled out, “I have crutches!”

  
  


“That’d be even more impressive.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to record Dean as he was rolling towards the far corner of the kitchen to a door that Castiel assumed led to the garage. “I’ll have you know, I’m filming this for posterity. I’m going to write a scholarly paper on your endeavor, and earn the adoration of thousands in the medical profession on how to deal with nefarious, extortion from stubborn patients.” 

  
  


Dean flipped on the garage lights. It was a spacious three car garage, that currently only held two motor vehicles and four bicycles. “You’ll see. I’ll teach you.” He teased. Castiel continued recording.

  
  


“That’s a beautiful car. Impala, right?”

  
  


“That’s right. ‘67 Impala, 327 four barrel, 275 horses. She’s my Baby.” He wheeled himself over to her. “I miss you, Baby.” He ran his hand along her front fender. 

  
  


“She  _ is _ beautiful,” Castiel came closer and bent to look inside. Dean watched him in the reflection of the shiny finish and window glass. He could see Castiel hold the camera up to get interior shots.

  
  


“Open her up.” Dean came up and took the phone from Castiel. “You can sit in her. I won’t let her bite you…right now.” He winked at Castiel as he turned the camera on him and the car.

  
  


“As a matter of fact,” he said, backing up through the kitchen door, “she hasn’t been started since Wednesday.”

  
  


Castiel heard a quick whistle, the jingle of keys and the sound of the garage door rising. He turned to see Miracle run past him and head outside.

  
  


“Catch.” Dean warned, tossing the keys at Castiel as he rolled back towards the car. Castiel wondered if the phone was still recording, propped in his lap. “I’ll let you two make friends if you start her up and let her run a bit.”

  
  


Castiel raised his eyebrows and gave a slight bow. “I’m honored.” He was serious. He could tell that Dean valued this car very highly by the way he talked about it as well as by the many photographs he’d seen inside. He had the feeling that he was being granted the highest of compliments to be offered this trust.

  
  


Dean picked up the phone again, aiming it as he pulled the door handle and opened the car for Castiel. “Alright, Baby. This is the Doc. Cas. He’s not going to take you anywhere, but he’s just going to make you a little more comfortable and help you breathe for a bit.”

  
  


He gestured for Castiel to enter. “OK, she’s ready.”

  
  


Castiel smiled and climbed in, a bit nervous.

  
  


He cranked her once and then a second time before she roared awake. He looked at Dean all smiles and nodded. 

  
  


“Give her a bit of gas. She likes to roar.” He smiled back at Castiel and rolled back a turn, nodding at his girl, still recording.

  
  


After several minutes, Castiel shut her off and ran his hands along the wheel as he turned and admired the inside of the car. He got out and gently shut her door.

  
  


“Thank you for allowing me the privilege.” He smiled at Dean, who was still recording.

  
  


“It  _ was _ a privilege. I don’t let just anyone sit in or drive my Baby.” He laughed.

  
  


Castiel walked over to the extension ladder he saw hanging on the far wall on the other side of a sizable pickup truck. Miracle followed him as she came back from outside. He lifted it off and very carefully carried it around the two vehicles. 

  
  


He blushed when he saw Dean was still recording. 

  
  


“For insurance and malpractice protection,” Dean laughed.

  
  


“Keep laughing. It’s on  _ my _ phone.” Castiel made his way through the door, Miracle following, around the kitchen island and over to the wall by the television. He set the ladder down and checked the height. He raised the extension enough to hit right below the air vent and turned to look at Dean who just pressed the button to close the outer garage door.

  
  


“Just where were you located when you, uh, created this, um, masterpiece?” Castiel asked, looking around. “I can’t imagine doing this, if one tried.” He shook his head in disbelief.

  
  
  


“I’m pretty sure I was near the door, or maybe by the island,” Dean looked around panning the camera as he did. “To tell you the truth, I’m not positive, but it was one or the other. I’d got upsetting news, was frustrated with my broken leg, and was missing Miracle.” 

  
  


He lowered the camera as he shook his head and quietly said, “I’m not proud of myself, but sometimes I just get so frustrated and angry, I just don’t know where to put it, and it comes out in this. I’m working on me though.”

  
  


Castiel could barely hear him.

  
  


“Well, I sure got some velocity on that thing though, didn’t I?” Dean laughed “I couldn’t believe it! I just missed the TV. I don’t know what I’d’ve done if I’d’ve hit it. Be out of a TV for a long time, I guess.”

  
  
  


Castiel climbed the ladder, as Miracle paced below whining and barking softly.

  
  


“S'alright, girl. Sit. Quiet.” Dean laughed. “She’s sure taken to you, Cas. That was her telling you and me that she’s worried about your current actions.”

  
  


Castiel was currently too concerned struggling to pull the armrest from the air vent. Pulling straight out was not working, but he was able to make slow progress by rocking it side to side multiple times before it was loose enough for him to finally yank it out.

  
  


He inspected the vent and armrest cushion for damage, then, holding it victoriously in the air, turned to Dean and the camera lens, before climbing down. He set the cushion on the counter and went to pick up the ladder. Dean followed with the camera, as he raised it over his shoulder, walked to the door and stopped. 

  
  


“The Door Man is slacking on his job not attending to the needs of the help.” Castiel tilted the ladder upright so he could grasp the door handle and turn on the garage lights.

  
  


“Sorry, man. Insurance purposes.” He held up the phone laughing. He continued recording until Castiel came back, washed his hands at the sink, and sneak snatched the phone from him.

  
  


“Hey, hey!”

  
  


Castiel turned the camera on Dean.

  
  
  


“Tell me, sir, if you can, what condition was your rented medical equipment in when you left the hospital?” Castiel zoomed in for a tight shot on Dean’s face. “Was it in shoddy used condition, or pristine new condition? Tell the doggo of the court the truth. They deserve to know the truth.” He turned to focus on Miracle, who perked up her ears and barked, and then back to Dean.

  
  


“I plead the fifth.” Dean raised his hands in surrender.

  
  


“The doggo of the court says punishment is six to eight weeks in a straight cast. Dunh, dunh, dunnhhh!” He focused on the cast, then a close up on Dean’s face and eyes.

  
  


…

  
  


…

Castiel zoomed back out and stopped recording. He stood upright.

  
  


…

  
  


“I’m gonna go put your shirt on the quick short wash.” Dean rolled his chair backwards, then turned around and disappeared into the laundry room.

  
  


Castiel was suddenly very self-conscious of his shirtless state. There was nothing he could do about it right now. Suddenly asking for a t-shirt would make it even more awkward. He went over and picked up the armrest cushion to see if there was a way to attach it back to the wheelchair. He wondered where the screws or bolts were that originally held it in place.

  
  


He carried it with him and placed it on the coffee table as he sat back down on the sofa. He emptied his glass. His stomach growled loudly.

  
  


“Hey, you hungry? I’m hungry. It’s past noon already.” Dean exclaimed as he rolled back in. He came over and drained his glass.

  
  


“I’ll buy you lunch. I have a ton of already prepared food in the fridge.” He pointed his thumb towards the kitchen and slapped Castiel‘s thigh before backing up his wheelchair and spinning to head to the kitchen.

  
  


Castiel placed their empty glasses and the bottle of Hedonism on the tray with the cocktail napkins, ice bucket and water, and carried it over to the island. He washed the glasses and set them to dry as Dean was pulling various containers, dishes and bowls full of food from the refrigerator.

  
  


“You certainly cook excessive amounts of food.” Castiel said as he looked at the crowded countertop.

“Nah, this is just some things people dropped off when I got home Friday. There’s more in the freezer and garage freezer.” He began removing lids and plastic wrap. “Grab a couple of plates from that cabinet,” he instructed, pointing.

  
  


Dean rattled off what was in each container, how good each dish was, the best combinations of items to eat at one time, who cooked what and who cooked what better.

  
  


“I will allow you to choose for me then.”

…

“Good, then you will not be disappointed.” Dean laughed, holding his head high.

…

“This is my favorite though.” He flipped the lid off of a large rectangular container. “Bobby’s fresh deer sausage.” He tilted the container so Castiel could see. “Not only is Bobby the best hunter I know, he hands down makes the best deer meat sausage.”

  
  


“You eat venison?” Dean held a large link over a plate.

  
  


“Not very often, but on occasion,” Castiel nodded, as Dean placed two pieces on a plate.

  
  


“Donna’s shredded barbecued pulled pork.” He scooped out a couple of large spoonfuls into a smaller container and popped it into the microwave. 

  
  


“There’s some hamburger buns on the right in the pantry there. If you don’t mind.” He turned back to the refrigerator and took out mayonnaise, mustard, shredded cheese and pickles. When the microwave beeped, he took out the pulled pork and placed the plate with the sausages in it.

  
  


He opened the bag of hamburger buns, placed them on their plates and indicated to Castiel to spread mayonnaise and mustard on them. He spooned steaming pulled pork on both, then topped with pickles and cheese, before closing the buns. He plopped a scoop of potato salad on both their plates without asking, whistling and smiling the entire time, then retrieved the sausage from the microwave, placing a sizable link on each plate. 

  
  


“Table’s ready over there. You mind?” He indicated the two plates. Castiel carried them over and placed one on each placemat that was already on the table. He went back to the kitchen and got them each a fork, knife and napkin as Dean pulled two brown bottles out of the refrigerator.

  
  


“Ice cold root beer?”

  
  


Castiel nodded.

  
  


Dean wheeled himself to the chairless space at the head of the table and Castiel took the chair next to him on the left.

  
  


Castiel looked at Dean, who had the biggest smile on his face as he looked at their two plates. He realized that almost every time he saw this magnitude of happiness from Dean it was in the presence of food or drink, and that physical sustenance is certainly a comfort thing for Dean.

Dean looked up at Castiel. “Now, I know I made your sandwich the way I usually eat it, but I’m telling you, whether or not you like mustard and pickles, or mustard and pickles together,  _ this _ is the way Donna’s barbecued pulled pork tastes the best. And cheese is a must have.”

  
  


…

  
  


“I know you won’t believe me, but this is exactly how I eat mine. Though I prefer bread and butter pickles to sour dill chip pickles.”

…

  
  


“What? No, no. I will not have those Frankenstein abomination cross between sweet and sour pickles on my sandwich. Just no.” Dean shook his head as he picked up his sandwich and faux glared at Castiel.

  
  


…

  
  


“I may not be a liquor connoisseur, but I am a pickle connoisseur. I can, and do, enjoy and sometimes just tolerate, the many varieties of pickle flavors, and I am here to tell you, that there is room at a table for sweet gherkins, spicy sour dill, as well as the subtle fragrant, with hint of spice, flavor of the American classic that is the superior bread and butter pickle,” Castiel emphasized with his fork pointed at Dean. “I’ll brook  _ no _ arguments about this topic.” He stabbed his large piece of deer sausage, held it aloft and took a hearty mouthful off the end of it.

  
  


Dean almost choked on his root beer, but just stared, eyes big.

  
  


Castiel did not notice.

  
  


“I must admit, this is much more than I usually eat for my midday meals,” Castiel, still holding his sausage on his fork, looked at his full plate skeptically, “and my nerves are a bit out of sorts today. I hope if I end up not being able to finish the meal, that I don’t offend you. I seem to anger you easily often, though I rarely understand why. I hope I am not angering you by speaking about angering you.”

  
  


Dean barely heard a word as he watched Castiel bite into the sausage a second time.

  
  


“No. Not, uh, not bothered at all.” Dean took another swig of his root beer. “Nope. I am not bothered at all.”

  
  


“This  _ is  _ really good venison sausage. My compliments to your friend.” Castiel took another bite.

  
  


“Beer?” Dean asked, hastily pushing himself from under the table and wheeling to the refrigerator.

  
  


“I’ve only taken one sip of my root beer,” he squinted at Dean. “But one shouldn’t drink alone, so I suppose I will.” He lifted his root beer in salute and drank half of it.

  
  


Dean watched from the corner of his eye as Castiel ate. He really didn’t think he could witness the man biting into that sausage even one more time.

  
  


“How is your sandwich?”

  
  


“Delicious. Your friends have wonderful culinary skills.”

  
  


“We have a couple of people that compete in the county and state barbecue cook offs. But not them. Not Donna or Bobby. They say a real cook doesn’t need the accolades of competition, just the happy smiles of satisfied stomachs. I’m just glad because that leaves more for me.” Dean smiled at him and bit into his own sausage.

  
  


…

  
  


…

  
  


“How are your two doing, Ben and Emmy?”

  
  


“Emma.”

  
  


“Emma. How are they feeling?”

  
  


“Better. A lot better. I thought they’d be coming home, possibly tonight, but Sam, my brother, is keeping them one more night to help me out. They’re both feeling a little weak and not up to par, but we think they’ll be ready to go back to school Tuesday.”

  
  


“That sounds about right for the illness to have run its course. My two are not keen on their first day tomorrow. They’re understandably having a bit of trouble adjusting. They’re not only moving from a big city to a small town, but from a school and friends they’ve been with their entire lives to starting a completely new school mid-school year, and having to make new friends.”

  
  


“I don’t envy them. That’s pretty much my childhood. We were the new kids a lot growing up. The longest we stayed at one school was my first four years. After that, we either moved to a new neighborhood, because my parents were trying to move up and improve our lives, and later, just moving, trying to hang on to their marriage or run away from it. Making it through an entire school year at the same school was a rare blessing, not a norm.”

  
  


At Castiel’s distressed look, Dean quickly added, “but look, we’re lucky enough to have one of the best schools in the county, in a top county in the state, and one move is not the same as the constant moving we did.”

  
  
  


Castiel took a long pull on his beer. “I never…this was not a planned move, not a climb up the corporate medical ladder, not even, sadly enough on my part, an attempt to help improve the health of a small community that needed a physician. It…it,” he sighed heavily, rubbing his palm across his forehead, “it just is circumstances that…” he almost spilled his story, but remembered himself. “Just. Circumstances.” He looked at his beer bottle and finished it off. “Just circumstances that…”

  
  


Dean watched a thousand emotions run across Castiel’s face and most of them, not good. He felt terrible that his words caused the look that was now on Castiel’s face.

  
  


“We all do what we have to, man. We try our best and do the best we can when we go up against odds and difficult circumstances.”

  
  


Castiel stood. “May I use your restroom?” He did not look at Dean. But Dean could see that his eyes were pooled with tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, and the irises had become as deep blue as the depths of the Mediterranean.

  
  


“Sure, man, anything. Down the back hall, on the right.”

  
  


“Thank you.” Castiel put his napkin on the table and quickly walked in that direction.

Miracle jumped up from where she’d been dozing and whined at Dean. “Go to Castiel, girl.” She ran off down the hall after him.

  
  


Castiel could only think that here he was, once again thinking about his own personal happiness, and finding a lifelong love, or just lover, partner, intimate friend, and he was reminded why he had stopped trying for it so long ago. He wanted to put his children first, and the one time, the  _ one _ time he actually made the decision to have a relationship, it inadvertently caused irreversible and unintentional upheaval in the lives of himself and his children as well as a reduction in salary.

  
  


As he opened the door to the bathroom, Miracle came running in. He tried to shoo her, but had to get to the toilet, so he left the door ajar and lifted the lid just as his lunch came up. He wiped his mouth with toilet paper and bathroom wet wipes as he sat on the floor. Miracle got in his lap and nuzzled him. He pulled her to him and hugged her, finally breaking down in tears. He felt like he’d been holding his breath all day, even though earlier he felt like it had been the first time he’d been able to breath in a long time. He didn’t understand why every time he tried to find a bit of personal happiness for himself, that chaos and disharmony followed. Now he had ruined his children’s lives over his baser impulses.

  
  


And what was he going to do today? He was planning to go seek out a man and work his courage up to go out on an actual date. He should have learned by now that personal intimate relationships and Castiel Novak were two things that should never occupy the same space.

  
  


What kind of problems might be caused if he went after his happiness again? 

  
  


“What are you doing with your life Castiel Novak? What are you doing? You should know by now that anything beyond basic sex for physical gratification is all you’ll ever be allowed without ruining lives. You deserve nothing.”

  
  


As he began to bury his face in Miracle again, he heard a light knock on the open door. He looked up to see Dean sitting in his wheelchair in the hall, hand outstretched with a glass of clear liquid that Castiel was positive was not water.

  
  


“Here, buddy. It’s a palate cleanser and will help settle your stomach.” He leaned over as far as he could to hand Castiel the small glass. “Just down it in one go. I promise you’ll feel better.”

  
  


Castiel leaned forward and took the glass. He took a sniff. “Peppermint Schnapps?”

  
  


Dean nodded.

  
  


Castiel downed it, and tilted the glass back to get every drop. He twirled the glass in his hand before handing it back to Dean. “I’m familiar with this. My wonderful cousin Balthazar used to give me this when I’d been out drinking too much in my teens.”

  
  


“I’m sorry if something I said brought you to this space. Please, do not ever think you are anywhere nearly in the same sorry-ass league as my parents.” Dean leaned further over the edge of the armrest. “I don’t really  _ know you _ know you, but I do know, just from your reaction to thinking that you may have done something to cause your children distress, that you are a better parent in a sliver of your pinkie nail than both my parents combined, and I’d bet on that and know I’d come away a winner.”

  
  


Castiel sniffled and huffed a small chuckle. 

  
  


“And you deserve as much happiness as anyone else.” Dean felt inadequate in the comfort he was offering. He couldn’t believe he’d said something so hurtful that it led to his guest preferring the cold bathroom floor to his company. “Again, I’m sorry.” 

  
  


Castiel patted Miracle and sat up a little as she got up and went over to Dean. He looked down at himself.

  
  


“This is completely not the way I thought my day was going to go.” He looked down at himself and shook his head. 

  
  


“No? You didn’t expect to be half naked on the floor of some strange man’s house in the arms of his dog? You need to up your imagination game, dude.” Dean laughed.

  
  


“Well, I was hoping my afternoon might lead to something somewhat along those lines, but I think I might just hang it all and go home.”

“Oh, so you have a date this afternoon? Already stalking a local? Good for you.” 

  
  


“Here.” Dean reached out to Castiel offering a hand up. Castiel accepted and stood. “See, first step. You got this. Just keep moving forward.”

  
  


“Don’t let go of your own happiness on guilt over something you had no control over, or you think may affect your children. Who knows, this might turn into their most favorite place where they make some of their best lifelong friends. That’s what it’s been for me.”

  
  


He smiled up at Castiel, trying to alleviate the sad lost look in his eyes.

  
  


“Do what you need to do for you, because if you delay and trade-off your happiness for theirs, eventually one day, they’re going to find out. And that’s a hell of a load of guilt to place on them. Don’t do it. You deserve happiness, they deserve happiness. Sometimes happiness comes in a way we never expect. I think you need to keep your date and find your happiness. You can’t truly help others to find happiness if you don’t have it yourself. Can’t take care of others properly if you don’t take care of yourself first.” He wheeled off towards the great room. “I’m going check on your shirt while you wash up. There’s everything you might need in that closet to the left.”

  
  


Castiel pushed the door closed and looked at himself in the mirror. Eyes bloodshot from tears. Hair a tousled mess. Mouth tasting ok thanks to the schnapps, but he was a mess inside. 

  
  


“Dean’s right,” he said to his reflection. “I need to do this for me, because Claire and Jack deserve a happy dad. Remember what Balthazar said, remember what Dean said.” He put his head down and felt fresh tears. “I can be happy. Everyone deserves to have happiness.” 

  
  


He watched tear drops fall from his eyes, splash on the countertop and into the sink. He took a deep breath, stood up straight and held his head up trying to find his center and fortitude. “Just keep moving forward,” he repeated Dean’s words.

  
  


Upon opening the small closet, he found washcloths, towels, new toothbrushes, travel size toothpaste and mouthwash in the store packaging, and a multitude of other items any guest might ever need. He freshened up as quickly as he could, and went back out to see that Dean had cleared the table and placed two shot glasses on the counter with an index card that read “Drink Us.” One had schnapps and the other he was unsure of, but it was powerful. He downed the schnapps. Tentatively he sniffed the second one again. “In for a penny, in for a pound.” He shrugged his shoulders and downed the contents.

  
  


“Woooh!” He laughed and choked a little trying to catch his breath.

  
  


“Ohhhh, yeah! That’s what I like to see! That’s definitely what I like to see.” Dean hooted as he came out of the laundry room.

  
  


“Glad to see a smile on your face again, buddy.” Dean was grinning ear to ear.

  
  


“What was that stuff?” Castiel asked with a hoarse whisper. Then, expelling his breath loudly. “I’m not going to spontaneously combust, am I? 

  
  


“That’s a secret remedy that’s given you those rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes and put that beautiful smile back on your face. Shot of Courage, man. Just a Shot of Courage.” Dean sat there smiling at the visible effects the one shot had produced in Castiel.

“It’s just some moonshine a friend of mine makes that he calls Shot of Courage, don’t tell nobody. I don’t want to get them in trouble.”

  
  


Castiel just stood there rosy cheeked and glassy eyed not knowing how beautiful Dean thought he looked.

  
  


“I didn’t know what to do with these,” Castiel said, holding out his hand with the toothbrush, and travel-sized toothpaste, guest soap, and mouthwash bottle.

  
  


“Here I’ll take care of them.” 

He wheeled to his pantry. Castiel could see him rummage behind items for a minute until he came out with a rectangular plastic lidded container. He made sure everything was dried and laid the items in the container. He opened a drawer, pulled out a Sharpie and wrote something on the lid and one side of the container. He popped the marker back in the drawer, put the lid on the container and handed it back to Castiel.

  
  


“Cas, 11/8/20” Castiel read. He squinted at Dean.

  
  


“That’s for you. If you go back in the bathroom, the far right, bottom drawer of the cabinet. Open it and put that in there. Alphabetically is encouraged but not enforced.” Dean laughed.

  
  


“I got your shirt hanging up to air dry by a fan. Not sure how long it will take though,” Dean added as Castiel headed back towards the bathroom.

  
  


“You can actually pop it in the dryer on medium low. It takes very little time to dry.” Castiel remembered the wheelchair. “I can go do it though.”

  
  


“If you need help figuring the dryer out, let me know.”

  
  


Castiel opened the drawer on the bathroom cabinet. It was a deep, wide drawer and was filled, filing cabinet-style, with similar plastic containers, each with a name. 

  
  


“Adam, Ash, Benny, Beth, Bobby, Charlie, Crowley, Donna, Ellen, Jo, Jody, Lee, Sam, Stevie” Castiel read. He placed his container between ‘Bobby’ and ‘Charlie,’ wondering why there were so many containers from so many different people. He recognized some of the names from people he’d met and from conversations he’d had with Dean. So, these were all his friends. But why would he have Castiel save his here?

  
  


He headed back to pass through the kitchen to the laundry room to put his shirt in the dryer. He saw Dean near the sofa with Miracle on his lap, putting her collar back on her.

  
  


“So, are all those plastic containers filled with the artifacts of missing bodies? Should I be worried I’m next?” Castiel feigned wide-eyed fear as he walked up and sat on the sofa.

  
  


“Yeah, you never know what I’m going to do with certain bodies.” Dean gave an evil, maniacal laugh. He smiled at Castiel. “My house comes in only second to my friend Ash’s place in terms of celebrating, partying, and a gathering place for guests. So, at one time or another, I have had them here, sleeping off a night of partying, busy holidays, sick or in need of a shoulder to cry on here and there. Got to the point that I decided to give everyone their own container, instead of throwing so much away after one or two uses, or have it loose in a giant drawer. That way, anyone comes over and needs any of the items, they know where to find their own, and keeps it organized. Kids have the same in their bathroom for their friends.”

  
  


Miracle jumped down from Dean’s lap as he began to roll closer to Castiel. 

  
  


“That’s so very kind of you, and a great idea in general for any host.”

  
  


“Thanks. Yeah, you should’ve seen that drawer before. It was a mess. Stuff everywhere in a big jumble.” Dean waved his hands in the air. “The containers are big enough for just the right amount of toiletries and necessities—hairbrush, razors, whatever, for when friends come by.”

  
  


“I have a hard time keeping things together sometimes. I have…I have ADHD, besides…besides the rest of the mess I am with PTSD and all. Being in the military taught me the value of ‘a place for everything and everything in its place.’  _ That  _ was a hard-learned lesson. Granted, I can still be messy sometimes, but I also learned that my life is a lot less stressful and anxiety-ridden when things are where they belong when you look for them. I still have to make a conscious effort and tell myself to be tidy, but I’ve found containers help make it easier for me. When in doubt, toss the small things in a container, label it, put it with similar items, and done.

  
  


“But why would you have me save one?” Castiel asked softly.

  
  


…

  
  


“God, I’ve really been that much of a dick to you, haven’t I?” Dean rolled himself closer. “Well, I want to apologize for that, because you obviously didn’t desire…uh, deserve the treatment I subjected you to. Sometimes, my emotions take over and anger seems to win out the most.” He shook his head. 

  
  


“At the very least, as well as me being your patient and landlord, we’re neighbors. And out here, neighbors look out for neighbors." He shrugged. “Besides, I figure, you’re new to town, maybe don’t know that many people in the area, and could use a friend.”

  
  


“I know I’m no picnic to be around sometimes, but you know, never hurts to have friends. They sure come in handy for having a good time, celebrating holidays and being there when you can’t admit you need help.” He said with a lop-sided grin.

  
  


“I think I’d like that. Thank you.” Castiel gave Dean a big gummy smile. “I have to admit, I’m no picnic either. I’m often told I’m too uptight, reserved, and pardon the expression, have a stick up my ass.”

  
  


“You don’t say?” Dean tried to hide his laughter. “I wouldn’t say all that, but you’re definitely reserved. At least as a first impression. They’ve obviously never seen your back or…or your, uh, pierced nipple.” Dean swallowed hard, wanting to sink into the floor for mentioning it.

  
  


Castiel let out a loud bubbling laugh that he tried holding in. “Yeah, I guess not,” followed by more bubbling laughter.

…

  
  


Dean just watched the sight with big eyes and mouth slightly open. 

  
  


…

  
  


Castiel’s smile stayed on his face as he looked at Dean. Did the man know how green his eyes were, how perfect his features were, how his hair beckoned one to touch it? 

…

The dryer’s timer bell went off letting them know that Castiel’s shirt was dry.

  
  


“I guess that’s my shirt.” Castiel rose to go to the laundry room. “Excuse me.”

  
  


Castiel took his shirt out of the dryer, and inspected it. It didn’t look like any of the blood stained it at all. He closed the dryer, turned out the lights, and began to pull on his shirt as he walked back into the great room. 

  
  


“I want to tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Twice today you came to my emotional rescue.” He said as finished putting his second arm in a sleeve.

…

“I told you before, it’s nothing.”

…

“Nothing to you, but to someone in distress it’s a lifeline.” He said as he began to button his shirt up. “I’m sorry I dumped my baggage at your door. I was already in an emotional state when I pulled up and I thought I could deal with it, which is why I sat in the car for a few minutes before getting out. I didn’t realize how close to the surface my emotions were over this. So, thank you.”

…

“Well, I’ve been down that road and I know from experience that somethings you think you can handle on your own, can be shouldered better with a helping hand from a friend. It took me a long time to learn it, and even longer to actually put it into practice. Hell, I’m still torn over asking and accepting help, but watching the struggle from the other side, makes me realize it’s not a bad thing to accept help.”

  
  


“I agree,” Castiel nodded, “but it’s always easier when it’s not you who’s in crisis. Nevertheless, I appreciate it.” He looked at his watch. “I guess if I’m actually going to go through with this, then I need to head out soon.”

  
  


“Oh, yeah. Your date.” Dean gave a halfhearted, lopsided smile. “I definitely don’t want to be responsible for making you miss that. Hope it works out for you.”

  
  


“Thank you. I hope it does also, if I go through with it—with the asking.” He felt the butterflies in his stomach, but not the same as earlier when he was feeling guilt over his children.

  
  


“You got this. You know you do. It’s just a date. I’m sure you’ve asked plenty of the ladies on dates before. It’s like riding a horse. You got this. Don’t forget my door is open.”

  
  


“Thank you for saving me from myself, for the drinks, the lunch, the clean unstained shirt, the lovely morning with good company.” He stood and smoothed out his shirt. “No need to walk, wheel out with me.” Castiel smiled at Dean and headed out the door to his car. 

  
  



	14. On the Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is homophobic and Racial slurs/Language used in this chapter. We don’t condone bigoted people in this house. Benny to the rescue. That big ole teddy bear.

Castiel got in his car and almost decided to go home. He was not used to drinking so early, but was glad he’d stopped by to drop off Miracle’s collar. He really would never have guessed that he’d have gone there thinking he’d be just a few minutes, trying to make up for having kept Miracle from the person that needed her, to staying there over three and a half hours, and leaving with Dean wanting to be friends. He had not really had friends that were strictly his friends in a very long time. Not since Betta and André. Most of his friends were just parents of Jack and Claire’s friends. It was congenial, but nothing deep. He kept things that way so he did not have to lie and tell half-truths. And now he wasn’t even really real friends with Dean yet, and he’d already told a few half-truths, and though he told no lies, he did not correct any misconceptions. 

  
  


Maybe his life could change for the better here. Maybe he could be himself and have real friends once again. The thought terrified him, because it seemed so many times things went wrong. He would try though. Dean was right, his children deserved a happy father. He didn’t want to lie to his children and he didn’t want to live his life lying about who and what he realized he was. So he would go to the Farmer’s Market today and ask a man out on a date…maybe, if he could work up the courage.

  
  


Castiel got to the edge of town and had no idea where the Farmer’s Market was, but it was a small town and most likely near the town center. He drove towards the courthouse and saw a small crowd at the empty lot near the southeast corner where he saw several tents and booths. He was surprised by the amount of people and had to park down the street. He retrieved several shopping bags from his trunk and headed towards the market. Amid the produce booths, there were several prepared food booths, and people dancing before a small stage with local musicians. Gabriel told him about the Farmer’s Market, but he wondered if Gabriel knew how large the crowd was for a Sunday. 

  
  


There was a large banner hanging over the street that read:

Cottonwood Falls Second Sunday Farmer’s Market

Second Sunday of Every Month 

9:00am - 4:00pm

  
  


This would definitely be a good day to open the Sweet Spot, and even though it was a Sunday, it would only be once a month. He made a mental note to tell Gabriel. It’s always a good idea to be open for business when a small town has bigger crowds than usual. However, he might not be able to staff for those times with only he and Samandriel working.

  
  


He walked along, trying to seem like a nonchalant produce shopper, but he kept nervously scanning the booths trying to furtively discover Benny before Benny spotted him. He had already bought some squash, cabbage, and turnips from three different sellers. He intended to use what he purchased today to make a couple of large pots of vegetable soup to have some to eat as well as some to freeze for the cold winter months to come. He stopped by a local cheesemaker’s booth and tasted several flavors, finally deciding to get two of blocks of different flavors.

  
  


He still had not seen Benny yet and was nearing the last section of booths. He was passing around the small line for the booth making traditional Kansas bierock meatpie-like sandwiches, when he ran into the head nurse from the clinic, Adam Milligan.

  
  


“Woah! Hey, Dr. Novak!” Adam cradled his sandwich before it fell from its red and white checkered paper food boat.

  
  


“Ooh, I’m so sorry. Oh, hello, Adam. ‘Castiel’ please.”

  
  


“I know, I’m sorry. You told me before to only call you Dr. Novak when we’re in a professional setting, but it just feels weird.” Adam laughed. 

  
  


“I understand, Nurse Milligan,” Castiel smiled slyly with a twinkle in his eyes.

  
  


“Alright, alright. I get it. Castiel.” Adam rolled his eyes, laughing. “Looks like you’re finding a lot of good veggies.”

  
  


“Yes, I’m trying to purchase a little bit from everyone. Kind of get to meet and support some of the townspeople. And stock up on ingredients for a few large pots of vegetable beef soup to freeze for the winter.” Castiel hefted his shopping bags.

  
  


“Sounds like a good plan. It can get cold out on the prairie in the winters.” Adam nodded toward the booth he’d just come from, “If you’re hungry you should try one of these bierocks. They’re the best around.” He bit into the golden baked yeast dough wrapped filling of ground beef, sausage, onions and shredded cabbage.

  
  


“Mmmm. This one’s beef and sausage, but they have chicken too.” Adam swallowed and ate another bite. “Sorry. I haven’t eaten since very early this morning. 

  
  


“No, eat!” Castiel said as they kept walking. “They look and smell delicious, but I actually ate a sizable lunch at your brother’s house.” He did not tell him that most of it had come back up.

  
  


“Sam?” Adam looked confused. “Wait, you’re not going to tell me Dean, are you?”

  
  


Castiel laughed. “As a matter of fact, it was Dean.”

  
  


Adam stopped mid-bite. “Really?! After the way he was dissin’ on you in the hospital?” 

  
  


“I was equally surprised. The first time I went by to check up on how he was feeling and just to be neighborly, he was nice at first, and then it turned into not very neighborly.”

  
  


“Oh, yeah. Sam told me Dean had told him he hit the ceiling when he found out you’d found Miracle and had her a whole day.” Adam’s eyes were wide, but he was laughing.

  
  


“Two days. Go ahead and laugh. I felt terrible. I was just glad I found her and was able to get her back home. But it was definitely thankless until today.” Castiel stopped at a booth to examine and purchase a bunch of carrots as Adam continued to eat his meal.

  
  


“He actually called you to apologize?!” Adam almost choked on his food. “Wow, he must have it bad for you! I guess he couldn’t resist your charms, right?”

  
  


Castiel laughed thinking Adam was joking with him. “Well, what’s not to resist? Nerdy, dorky, weird, citified, doctor/widower, saddled with precocious teen twins and rejected by the medical corporate machine.” He stretched his arms out smiling.

  
  


“Well, you definitely have all the key traits he goes for, and the blue eyes for the win.” Adam smiled.

  
  


“No, really. My children had found Miracle’s collar, and being that I was planning to come out here to the market this morning, I thought I’d stop by his place on the way here to return it.” 

  
  


“I have to admit, my plan was to drop it off, and leave as quickly as possible, after my experience on Saturday.” They both laughed. “That was just after 10:30 this morning though, and I just finally reached my destination.” 

  
  


They walked on and stopped in front of a booth selling fresh homemade breads.

  
  


“You sound like you had quite the morning with my brother.” Adam gave Castiel a pointed look.

  
  


Castiel smiled, remembering. “Yes, we had a mostly pleasant morning. He even showed me his car, and asked me to sit in it, and run the engine as well. It’s,  _ she’s  _ a very beautiful classic car.” He corrected himself.

  
  


“Are you kidding me?!” Adam nearly yelled in disbelief, throwing his head back like he’d been punched in the face.

  
  


“Oh, brotha! He’s already gotten to you! And here I thought I might’ve had a chance!”

Castiel turned toward the familiar voice coming from behind the booth. “But I guess I might’ve lost my opportunity, now, especially with you looking so handsome in the company of Dean. He doesn't waste time when he sees blue eyes and gorgeous like you.”

  
  


“Benny! Good afternoon! I didn’t realize this was your booth.” Castiel smiled.

  
  


“Hey, Benny.” Adam bumped a fist with Benny.

  
  


“Yes, Castiel. I’m out here trying to earn a bit of extra coin to take you out in style, only to find out I probably lost my chance by not asking you first, before Dean got to you.” Benny looked down somewhat defeated, only half in jest.

  
  


“No, not at all.” Castiel blushed, looking from Benny to Adam and back. He realized they were serious. His return gaydar signal obviously did not work, because he had no inkling that Dean had any interest in him. “What? No, not me?”

  
  


“Well, even if he didn’t get to you, you’ve obviously put some kind of spell on him!” I’ve know him for over 25 years and do you know how many times I’ve been allowed to just  _ sit _ in Baby’s driver’s seat?”

Castiel shook his head, brows furrowed.

  
  


Benny held up his hand in the sign for “zero.”

  
  


Seeing his disbelief, Benny confirmed, “That’s right. Zero. Nada. 

Pas une fois — Not once, brotha, not once.” He placed both hands heavy on the table before him and hung his head. “And I even had a semi-serious relationship with him for three of those years.”

  
  


Castiel just stared vacantly. He did not see that tidbit coming.

  
  


“Well, how do you think I feel? I’m his own flesh and blood brother and the only time I ever got behind her wheel was when our dad had the car and taught me to drive. And that, still, was only twice in my life.” Adam looked to the sky then back to Castiel. “Benny’s right, man, what kind of voodoo magic whammy did you put on him?” He looked Castiel up and down.

  
  


Castiel’s mouth was suddenly dry. He looked back and forth between the two men. “You’re putting me on. And even if not, he most likely did it to take pity on me for having a bad morning, and guilt over my nosebleeds.”

  
  


“Nosebleeds?” They asked in unison.

  
  


“Yes, ever since we had picked him up off the floor Friday morning when he was in a panic attack and punched me in the nose, my nose has bled intermittently every day. It happened this morning when I was there and was a particularly profuse one. I even bled all over my shirt and he was so kind, and remorseful, that he even pretreated and washed my shirt in order that it not stain.”

  
  


Adam and Benny just looked at each other.

  
  


“Well, Dean must’ve had a right lovely morning then,” Benny gave a sad smile that did not reach his eyes.

  
  


“Be that as it may, there was no indication of any interest on his part,” Castiel vowed in adamant protest. “Besides, I, um, I thought I might see you here today.” Castiel nervously looked down and then at the breads displayed on the table. “I thought I, we, could…” he took a deep breath. “I thought I could see whether your schedule was clear for dinner this evening,” he finally quickly spilled out.

  
  


“Look, I’m going to leave you two to sort this out.” Adam slapped Castiel on the shoulder and nodded to Benny as he backed away. “Y’all don’t need me here third wheeling it.”

  
  


“You really willing to give it a go? I can’t see Dean letting you slip by him like this, but I’m not one to let opportunity pass me by.” Benny studied Castiel with an intense eye.

  
  


Castiel stood before him, chin slightly lifted, sapphire eyes on fire with one arched brow, dark hair tousled as if caught in a wild wind, beautiful with a ready fierce defiance of not accepting “no” for answer.

  
  


Benny bit his lip and filled his lungs with a deep breath. He looked softly at Castiel. “I might regret this, but I cannot say ‘no’ to you, especially not giving me that look with all your beauty and grace. Dinner it is, but I’m buying.”

  
  


Castiel let out his breath as his smile widened. “Good. Thank you.”

  
  


“Oh, man. I might just have to hold you on the edge of gratification and disappointment more often if it allows you to bestow smiles like that on me.” Benny winked at him, hand on his heart.

  
  


Castiel blushed and looked around. Benny certainly knew how to flatter. For the first time, he understood what it really meant when someone said they felt like a nervous schoolgirl. 

  
  


“So, uh, I didn’t expect…I didn’t know you were a baker.” Castiel changed the subject. He moved to the side of the booth as some customers came up. 

  
  


Benny greeted the obviously repeat customers that visited every second Sunday. They bought several loaves of two varieties, exchanged a few pleasantries and left.

  
  


“Yeah, my mother’s side of the family were bakers and specialized in breads, best French bread in three parishes. I learned it at my grandmother’s knee. It’s a good thing to fall back on when money’s tight or if I’m ever just in need of an extra few bucks in the coffers.” He picked up a long loaf and handed it to Castiel. “That there’s New Orleans French bread. You take that home, slice it horizontal, and make some sandwiches with that. Be the best you’ve ever had.”

  
  


Castiel smiled as he accepted the long, slender loaf. “So your grandmother was German, eh?”

  
  


Benny’s head whipped up in astonishment. “However did you know that?!”

  
  


“You forget that I told you I’d spent several months in New Orleans working in their trauma center. Everyone there, and in south Louisiana, knows the bread for poboys, dipping in gumbo, red gravy, and red beans and rice is French bread. And that the best French bread bakers are all of German heritage.” Castiel laughed at the look of astonishment on Benny’s face.

  
  


“Oh, I did forget. I will try not to make that mistake again. And you are certainly right about that, brotha. You know the way to this Louisiana boy’s heart.” He smiled at Castiel with a smoldering gaze.

  
  


Castiel suddenly grew nervous again. He checked his watch. “Well, there’s a little time to shop before 4pm or are you going to close down before then? I just wanted to pick up a few more items for my soups.”

  
  


“No, you go ahead and do your shopping. I usually sell out just before close. People come to me last so they don’t smash their breads,” He laughed, “so I’m usually one of the last to close up.”

  
  


“Great, then I’ll be back shortly and help you with your close down and packing up.” He smiled and turned towards a booth piled with broccoli, kale and Brussels sprouts.

  
  


Benny watch him walk away, admiring the slim fit of both the checked trousers and the form fitting blue shirt that showed off each ripple of muscle from thighs to shoulders. He’d tried not to stare, but he had not missed the outline of the pierced nipple nor the few times during their conversation when the blue-eyed beauty’s nipples became erect. Benny could tell that though Castiel seemed shy and hesitant, he knew his own body well and how to use it for temptation and pleasure. And as much as Benny wanted to taste that pleasure, there was something there that evoked a deep feeling of protectiveness. 

  
  
  
  


Castiel felt as if his skin was alive separately from the rest of his body. Every nerve ending vibrated with restless anticipation. He walked along looking at vegetables, speaking with booth owners and buying, but if someone had snatched his bags and gave him the third degree about what he bought and who he had spoken to about what, he would be helpless, because his mind could recall absolutely none of the past 25 minutes since he left Benny’s company. He’d really done it. He really had taken this first step and in full hearing and viewing of the public. The electrical buzz seemed like it had seeped down from his flesh and into his muscles and brain. He felt light and heavy at the same time, and he realized he’d been walking around with a stupid grin on his face the entire time.

  
  


He stopped and looked up at the vast blue sky. Was this what happiness felt like or was it just temporary giddiness from the slight unburdening of the weight of hiding a large part of himself for his entire life? It had been so long, he couldn’t distinguish the two. Either way, he knew he liked and deserved this feeling and was going to do what he could to make sure he continued to have this feeling for himself and his children.

  
  


His phone rang. It was Gabriel. As much as Castiel wanted to know how the twins’ day was going, he knew Gabriel was calling to find out if he’d done as Gabriel hinted.

  
  


“Hello, Gabriel. How are the kids?” He tried to divert the grilling for a short time.

  
  


“Oh, they’re doing great. We went to The Museum of World Treasures because Jack just had to see a certain exhibit, we played some laser tag with a group of their old friends, now we’re at the mall with a smaller group of old friends. We’re going to be going to dinner with a more intimate, manageable group soon. But what I really want to know is how your day is going? What are  _ your _ plans for dinner, Bro? Please tell me my day in the company of childteens has been well spent and not for naught.”

  
  


“I’ve had a very good day, Gabriel. A very good day.” Castiel was so torn between happiness and the sustained giddiness at his own daring that he was afraid if he said too much at once that he’d burst out in happy tears and embarrass himself.

  
  


“I think I can hear a giant shit-eating grin in there somewhere, Li’l Bro. It makes me happy, too. No, better than that, ecstatic would be the word. Can I surmise that there will be a dinner date forthwith or at least in the next day or two?

  
  


Castiel’s joy came out in bubbling laughter. “Forthwith. The market closes at 4pm and I’m getting ready to return to Benny’s booth to help him pack it up. Then we’re going to drive into Emporia to go to his favorite Japanese restaurant.”

  
  


He heard a just barely audible sob, a ragged intake of air, and the sound of a hand brushing over the microphone.

  
  


“Gabriel? Gabriel, is something wrong?!” He called worriedly into the mouthpiece.

  
  


He heard more brushing over the microphone and a sniffle with another deep breath.

  
  


“No. No, Bro. It’s just that…I, I knocked my frozen latte over. Frozen coffee all on my junk and nether regions. Not that that would be a bad thing in the right venue and with the right company, but in the mall is not my choice location.”

  
  


“Oh, I’m sorry. That does sound uncomfortable.”

  
  


“No, biggie. I’ll just stop in the next place and buy myself some clean ones. I’ll definitely have to buy some skivvies, too, because these are soaked through to my….” 

  
  


“OK, OK!” Castiel cut him off before Gabriel could elaborate.

  
  


“Alright, Bro. Well, no rush at all for you. Understand. I have the keys to get the kids home, baths taken and ready and in bed for 8:30-8:45. You go out and have a good time, you hear me? You make me proud of you. I’m here for you and I love ya. This is your time. Use it. Do it for me. Do it for the twins, but most of all do it for you. And only do what you are fully comfortable with. Just because you jump in the pool doesn’t mean you need to swim the length and breadth of it on your first dip. OK?”

  
  


Castiel chuckled. “Yes, Gabe. I  _ am _ a big boy. I think I can handle myself on a date. But thank you for everything.” 

  
  


“I know, but I’m entitled to worry. I am your big brother after all.”

  
  


“Oh, and please, if not for my sanity, for the sake of an uninterrupted date, please, please, keep this to yourself until at least tomorrow morning. I don’t need ten different phone calls and ninety texts from Anna and Balthazar while I’m trying to have polite and perhaps, seductive conversation with Benny.”

  
  


“Oh, since you put it that way, I am a closed book until morning. The night is yours. Now go get your man.”

  
  


The line clicked and went dead.

  
  


Castiel smiled and headed to Benny’s booth. When he arrived, he saw a very tall man, who he realized was Dean’s brother, Sam, and a couple of older gentlemen at Benny’s booth, one in a crisp dark suit with dark red shirt and tie, and the other in a firemen’s uniform and snapback cap. 

  
  


“Ah, here’s the Doc now!” Benny announced as Castiel walked up. He had a beaming smile and his crystalline eyes were sparkling with mischief and what Castiel thought looked like pride.

  
  


“Hello, again, doctor.” Sam Winchester put out his hand.

  
  


“Hello, Sam. How are you doing? More importantly how are Ben and Emma? Dean tells me they’re hoping to head back to school on Tuesday?” 

  
  


“Yeah, they’re doing better. I wouldn’t say  _ they’re _ hoping to go back to school, but they’ll be going back to school Tuesday,” he laughed.

  
  


“If they don’t get back to school, I’ll put them to work at the firehouse!”

  
  


“Dr. Castiel Novak, this is Robert Singer, our Fire Chief, and Sam and Dean’s surrogate dad, for all intents and purposes,” Benny said as he gestured to the man in the cap.

  
  


“Very nice to meet you, Chief.” Castiel offered his hand.

  
  


“Bobby. Nice to meet you, Doc.” 

  
  


“Castiel, please.” 

  
  


“And this is his partner, our illustrious, yet feared county judge, The Honorable Chief Judge, Fergus Roderick Macleod Crowley, better known as Crowley,” Benny gave a mock salute and clicked his heels.

  
  


“Or Uncle Crowley, when the mood suits,” Sam laughed.

  
  


“Keep laughing, Moose,” growled the judge in a British-Cockney-by-way-of-New-York accent, “I know where you bury the bodies,” he said to Sam, shaking the doctor’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, doctor.”

  
  


“Castiel, please.” He shook hands with the judge.

  
  


“I like this one, Benny. If you don’t hold on to him, I wouldn’t mind a go.” Crowley said as he gave Castiel the once over and winked with a smile.

  
  
  


“Oh, no, Judge, he’s spoken for by me at this point.” Benny laughed as he reached over the table and placed his arm between them blocking Crowley from Castiel.

  
  


“You do, and you’ll find yourself tossed out on your ear, you old coot,” Bobby said grumpily, “it ain’t the time of year for hedonism yet.”

  
  


“You know I put no one before you, my love, but myself. However, I don’t mind giving a buggering whilst I get a buggering, you know that.” Crowley said gently caressing Bobby’s cheek.

  
  


“Please, there are children present,” Sam begged.

  
  


“Oh, Moose, give up the protests. He’s your  _ surrogate  _ father and we’re not married. I’m not truly your uncle, never have been, never will be. Once upon a time you seemed interested.” He winked, “Never say never.”

  
  


“But you just did!” Sam blushed and protested in semi-annoyance.

  
  


“Ah, My Moose. Always so easy to get a rise out of you. Not the rise I’m looking for, but a rise nonetheless.” Crowley smiled at Castiel. “He’s fun, easy and gullible, but I’d like to see how fun and easy you can be.”

  
  


“Alright, we’re outta here!” Bobby wrapped his arm around Crowley and grabbed his bags of French bread. “Nice meeting ya, doc!”

  
  


“Call me!” Crowley said over his shoulder and made the hand phone sign and put it to his ear as Bobby dragged him away.

  
  


Castiel watched Crowley wrap his arm around Bobby’s waist and put his head on Bobby’s shoulder as they walked away.

  
  


He and Benny laughed, and Sam just let out a loud, exasperated, “uuggghh!”

  
  
  


“With that, I’m going to head back home to Ben and Emma, so I can get our soup and sandwiches ready for dinner, and then I can bleach my eyes and ears,” Sam squeezed his eyes shut and shivered.

  
  


Castiel and Benny both burst out with laughter.

  
  


“See ya, brotha.” 

  
  


“Nice to see you again, Sam.”

  
  


“Those two really are something,” Castiel shook his head.

  
  


Benny began stacking the trays and flat crates he’d brought his bread in on top of the table. He only had four loaves left, one smashed loaf and two small parts of his sample loaves. He then pulled a large plastic lidded rectangular tub out from under the table and stacked the trays inside.

  
  


“Yeah, Bobby’s gruff, but can be a sweet, old guy with a heart of gold. He’s the typical all bark and just a little bite if you cross him. But Crowley is a whole different kettle of fish. He has minimal boundaries and is up for  _ any _ thing, any time, any where, with almost anyone, any adult, I’ll qualify. And I’m not just speaking strictly about sex.” Benny laughed and shook his head. “Though he’s usually seeing what he can get out of anything, he’ll surprise you sometimes with the most magnanimous act of giving.”

  
  


“He does seem a bit intimidating, but also seems a bit all bravado,” Castiel laughed. “What can I do to help?”

  
  


“I need to shake the crumbs off the tablecloths and quick-fold them for storage ‘til I get them in the wash. Don’t need any perfect fancy folding. I just fold ‘em instead of rolling them to keep bulk to a minimum and put them in an empty crate, then put the crates in the tub.”

“Then we can break down the tables and the canopy. There’s a storage bag for the canopy and poles hanging from one of the poles. Then we can load up. I appreciate the help.”

  
  


“Glad to lend a hand. Where do you do your baking? Do you have a commercial establishment or in home?”

“I do it all from home. I have a professional oven and various other pieces of equipment. I don’t know that I’d ever want to have a bakery or not. I like being a firefighter and working on Dean’s farm.” Benny said as he folded up one of the tables. “I like working where I can be outdoors. Back home, we even cooked outdoors a lot, but baking in a kitchen all day everyday, that’s not really my cup of tea.”

  
  


“My truck is just across the street, the tan Ford. We can just pile everything in the bed after we pack it up. Where are you parked?”

  
  


“Oh, I’m down the street, next block over. I think I arrived at peak crowd.”

  
  


“OK, we can load up my truck and then I’ll drop you off at your car and you can follow me back to my place. I’ll unload real quick, freshen up and change, and then we can hit the road to Emporia.”

  
  


“That sounds like a plan.”

  
  


Benny began to break down the canopy as Castiel carried the two tables over to the truck. He helped Benny fold up the canopy cover when he returned and they loaded the rest of the items in the truck. The leftover bread was placed in a cardboard box on the seat of the truck between them, and Benny dropped Castiel at his car.

  
  


Castiel followed Benny on a quick zigzag route to the northeast, and in a few short minutes they were pulling up in front of a limestone raised cottage surrounded on either side by small, cookie-cutter wood and aluminum sided, raised houses, like millions built across the United States during the post-war era. There were two round cement planters with small delicate bluish-purple flowers and bright yellow chrysanthemums on each side of the granite slab steps leading up to an arched doorway bordered by red ochre bricks under a small peaked-roof porch. The home looked a lot older than the surrounding homes, but well-kept up.

  
  


Benny was already unloading the tables into the attached one-car garage by the time Castiel parked and got out of his car. He had a moment to admire the ripple of muscle and broad back as Benny bent over and lifted the second table over the truck bed. He had a quiet intensity that Castiel found intriguing. He seemed like the kind of man who was rarely ever off-balance or raging. One who would rather walk away than fight, but woe to anyone who actually woke the sleeping dragon.

  
  


Castiel grabbed the bin and canopy storage bag out of the bed, and put them on the counter that was along one side of the garage. He noticed a very large, stainless steel commercial bread oven and large mixer. So, this must be where Benny did his baking.

  
  


“Leave the bread in the truck. We can go inside through the front door.” He saw that Castiel noticed his baking equipment. “Yeah, this was leftover from one of my family’s bakeries when they shuttered the business a few years after Katrina. This was all new equipment then, to replace what was lost in the storm, but they never did bounce back from what we lost. So I took some of the equipment, in case I ever needed something to fall back on or make some extra bucks. I have a few other pieces in storage, but not too much. I have all I need right here.”

  
  


They headed back out to the front of the house as the garage door hummed to a close.

Castiel felt his heartrate beginning to increase. He’d never felt nervous being alone with a member of the same sex before, but now, knowing he was open to possibilities, he felt a bit timid. 

  
  


Benny opened the door and stood to one side for Castiel to go in.

  
  


“It’s not much, but it’s cozy and home.” He pulled the door closed. “You can have a seat or look around if you’d like. Would you like something to drink? Tea, a soda, water, something stronger?” 

  
  


“I’d love a glass of water.”

  
  


“Sure, thing.”

  
  


Castiel looked around the simply furnished home as he followed Benny past the small dining room into the kitchen. There was nothing frivolous or extraneous, but it was not austere. Where Castiel half expected to see the typical bachelor’s black leather sofa or sectional, he saw modern furniture with warm woods and pops of color. However, when he looked closer, he realized that it was all pristine antiques from early last century. Some that appeared to be from the 1920s, some from the 1930s, and some from the 1940s. He didn’t see anything from the 1950s or the early 1960s, but it was all streamlined, simple and pared down, with no extraneous ornamentation, carvings or hardware. He smiled at the comfortable simplicity of it all.

  
  


“Wow, this is amazing! I really like your kitchen.” Castiel smiled as he took in the scene before him. “I feel like I stepped into an old movie, except everything is in color.”

“Aw, thank you. It was a labor of love.” Benny gazed fondly around the room. “Only thing not original is the refrigerator. I wanted to keep the fridge, but decided against it as they are  _ not _ ecologically friendly in any way. But the rest—cabinets, appliances, floor and wall tiles, and the pendant lighting, are all original. I added in the recessed lighting. It was too dark in here without it.” He opened a cabinet, picked out two glasses and filled them from a large bottle in the refrigerator.

  
  


“I admire it’s simple beauty and color. Thank you.” Castiel said as he accepted the glass, taking a long swallow. His eyes roamed over the white hexagonal tiles with jade green hexagonal tiles accented as a border and interspersed in diamond scatters across the floor.

  
  


“House was built between 1920 and 1921. The old story of the little old lady, Miss Agatha, who grew up in the house and never left. Her daddy was the local town lawyer, built the home for he and his bride. Had two children, a boy and girl. Boy was in the Navy, lost at sea never to return during WWII. Daughter’s high school love was a pilot, went off to die somewhere over the Pacific near Okinawa right before the end of the war. She never married, and walked in her daddy’s footsteps, went to law school, worked for social reforms in the county and state, but never left her home. Died at 92 in the hospital in 2016.”

  
  


“That’s so sad.” Castiel imagined such a life the woman must have lived.

  
  


“She had lots of friends and a little old cousin that died right after her. Her best friend lived next door for over forty years, until a year ago, so I know some of their old stories. Used to have tea with her on my Sundays. Mind you, I’m not much of a tea drinker, but I  _ am _ a not-letting-little-old-ladies-be-alone-on-a-Sunday type of guy.” He looked down and laughed. He took a sip of his water. “You never know some of the things our older generation did, some down right crazy, until you sip tea with a little old lady every Sunday for a few years. Miss Sophie and Miss Agatha, God bless ‘em”

  
  


“No family. So house sat vacant since she’d been hospitalized in 2012, until I came along. Wasn’t much money rolling around town at that time. I had come out here with Dean, years before.”

Castiel looked up at hearing this. Benny noticed hearing Dean mentioned caught Castiel’s attention.

  
  


“Yeah, we were trying to get out of the fast lane, if you know what I mean.” 

  
  


Castiel nodded. He knew what his own fast lane had been. He didn’t doubt that his was the slow lane compared to what Benny and Dean must’ve went through after Afghanistan.

  
  


Benny gestured at the house in general, “I saved up, used some of my own small inheritance, and bought this place. Never had to put in too much work. Miss Agatha had kept this place pristine her whole life. Updated wiring, plumbing, new roof, refinished the wood floors and paint. I added a small bathroom under the stairs where there was just a closet.”

  
  


“It’s really nice. So many people would’ve come in here and ripped out all the old charm and history or just torn down the entire building. Nice to see homes like this preserved.” He finished his water and placed it in the sink. 

  
  


He felt Benny’s eyes follow him. He could feel his heart pick up pace, nervous about turning around so close to Benny. He took a deep breath and turned to see Benny finishing his water, eyes towards the ceiling.

  
  


“Well, I’m going to head upstairs, freshen up quick, and the we can hit the road. You’re welcome to come up and look around. No funny business. I promise.” He winked at Castiel and placed a gentle hand over Castiel’s forearm. He put his glass in the sink and walked through the dining room towards the stairs. Castiel followed, nerves somewhat alleviated.

  
  


“Was the home furnished when you bought it? There are some very nice pieces here.” He followed Benny upstairs.

  
  


“It was, but most of it was not my style. I kept a few pieces, but most of it I sold or swapped out pieces in trade for pieces with a more modern flavor with a couple of antiques dealers in Wichita and Topeka. Miss Agatha had a more Victorian style. As Miss Sophia always said, ‘lots of knick knacks and bric-a-brac’ full of memories of a lifetime.”

  
  


He went to the door at the left and turned on the light. 

  
  


“It’s three bedrooms. This is the guest room.” He flicked on the light. Again the furniture was warm wood tones with a complete suite of antique streamlined furniture from the 1930s. Even the fabric of the curtains and bedspread were vintage barkcloth with vibrant geometric patterns.

  
  


“Tiny closets, but I don’t need much space.” He turned on the light in the next room. “This is supposed to be another bedroom, nursery I would suppose, but it barely fits a desk and a couple of bookcases.” 

  
  


Benny stepped back so Castiel could enter the room. He squeezed past into the hall and flipped on the lights in the bathroom next.

“If you liked the kitchen, you’ll love the bathroom. It’s got the old fashioned spa shower and large separate bathtub. Not claw foot, but quite sizable. Almost like a large marble sarcophagus without the lid. Got the large marble sink, too. Original hexagonal tiles with the border and star design similar to the kitchen.”

  
  


“This really is a gem.” Castiel said as he walked in. “Oh my god! You weren’t kidding! That tub is definitely big enough for two!” He looked up nervously at Benny wondering if he’d actually go through with it, if Benny invited him to join him.

  
  


Benny smiled so softly at him, that a feeling of calm washed over him.

  
  


“Come on,” Benny lead him into his bedroom. “This is the master. Biggest bedroom, but almost the same size small closet.”

  
  


Castiel walked in the master bedroom and part of him wanted to be pulled onto the bed in a grand romantic gesture, part of him wanted to push Benny down on the bed, and part of him was terrified. He wasn’t so much afraid of what might occur sexually, he truly was anticipating that aspect with only slight trepidation of going through with the actual act, but he still wrestled with the fear of his life changing in a way that might hurt his children. 

  
  


He looked around Benny’s bedroom. The furniture was another complete suite of early 20th century furniture. There was a very large bed with a warm curly birchwood headboard and footboard. There were two matching nightstands, a matching dresser with a mirror, and bachelor’s chest. In one corner, at an angle, was an upholstered chair.with wooden arms and legs.

  
  


“I’m astonished at the size of that bed. Is that original? Did they really make beds that large back then?” 

  
  


“It is. They did. I lucked out in that I happened to be in the store when they were unloading new arrivals. They sold it cheap as long as I unloaded it.” He walked over to the chest of drawers, pulled out some boxer briefs, and got a pair of black slacks out of the closet.

  
  


“Go ahead. Make yourself at home and try it out. Mattress is new.” He started to head towards the bathroom.

  
  


“Oh, my cheese!”

  
  


Benny turned around. “Is that a new fangled term the kids are using these days, because if it is, I’m not familiar with it.”

  
  


Castiel burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. No, I’d forgotten I bought cheese at the Farmer’s Market and remembered it’s in my car.”

  
  


“Put it in my fridge until we get back.” Benny smiled and touched his cheek as Castiel stared wide eyed and leaned into the caress. Benny pressed forward, brushing his lips along Castiel’s neck and cheek until he found his lips. Castiel put his hand at the back of Benny’s neck to give added pressure and depth to the kiss. His tongue slipping along the edge of Benny’s lips, tasting, tentatively exploring to find its way inside. Castiel’s senses were filled with the scent of baked bread, a hint of spicy cologne, fresh outdoor fall air and a subtle sweet minty flavor of gum or a tictac. He reveled in the feel of their hard bodies which had somehow become pressed together, the slight rough texture of tongue sliding over tongue and the headiness of just being this intimate with someone for the first time in more than six months.

  
  


“Oh, I knew you’d be sweet, but I never knew you’d be so delectable,” Benny said as he lifted his mouth from Castiel’s lips. “I’m going to go freshen up or I won’t want to leave.”

  
  


Castiel nodded. “I’m going to get my cheese.”

  
  


“You do that,” Benny laughed softly as he backed out of the room, eyes on Castiel until he reached the hall.

  
  


Castiel took a deep breath and ran both hands through his hair as he looked at himself in the dresser mirror. His face was flushed, eyes sparkling sapphires, lips more plump than usual and red from the bruising kiss. He smiled at himself. He could do this. He could definitely do this. He went out to get his cheese.

  
  


Castiel returned from his car and placed the cheese in the refrigerator. On first glance the refrigerator fit right in with the kitchen time period. It was only after opening it that one could tell it was new. It was one of the more expensive brands that looked retro. He looked around the kitchen and took in the details. He studied the large white and green enameled stove. It was quite large, had a built in clock, work light and even salt and pepper shakers. There were so many ingenious and modern touches to the cabinetry that he had never known kitchens had back then.

  
  


He roamed through the dining room and decided to freshen himself up in the under stair half bathroom. Though it was new, Benny had made sure to use vintage fixtures. The toilet appeared to be an exact match for the one upstairs. The sink was a wall attached with two legs for front support. Benny certainly did justice to keeping it in harmony with the rest of the house. He finished up and stepped into the living room. He was just pursuing a bookshelf as Benny came down.

  
  


They’d decided to take Castiel’s car instead of Benny’s truck. Benny retrieved the leftover bread from his truck and they headed north to pass through Strong City to get to the highway. After little more than six minutes of travel up Cottonwood Street, they reached Strong City and Benny directed Cas to stop at the first house of the second block on the right after they past over the railroad tracks. Benny grabbed his bread, jumped out and jogged up the steps to the porch of a small bungalow. Castiel could just make out through the large oak tree branches a banner hanging from the porch: Chase County Food Pantry.

  
  


“Sorry ‘bout that. I usually meet up with the gal that comes to the market for any leftovers and discounts, but I was much distracted today.” 

  
  


“No, problem at all. It wasn’t even out of our way.” Castiel pulled back on to the street. “I never have a problem going out of the way to help the community.”

  
  


They drove the two blocks to the highway and turned east towards Emporia. In less than a half an hour they’d pulled up to the Japanese restaurant and were seated.

  
  


“I have to admit that I had my reservations about an authentic Japanese restaurant in, of all places, Emporia, Kansas, but just walking in the door here has me at ease.” Castiel looked around, impressed. “I’ve eaten at some places that claim authenticity and are barely passable as edible let alone authentic cuisine of any culture.”

  
  


He looked around at the chef, wait staff and cashier who was also the owner. Everything about the place, decor, workers, menu, available beverages and liquors scents and the language coming from the kitchen reminded him of the trips to Japan he’d taken with his family while growing up.

  
  


“I get it. It’s the same way I felt when I found out the couple at Kellum’s Feed and Wine were serving boiled crawfish and shrimp. Didn’t think I’d find authentic Louisiana food in the middle of the country’s heartland.” He laughed. “Hell, at last month’s market, I had a tourist from New Orleans surprised at my French bread, until they heard my story. Just goes to show, you can find your bliss anywhere, could be 1000 miles away or right next door. Just gotta be open to possibilities that the stars you seek might be right in front of you.”

  
  


“So, might I ask what brings you to our middle of nowhere town?” Benny asked after they placed their orders.

  
  


Castiel took a deep breath and looked at his hands clasped on the table. If he was going to do this, he thought, he might as well do it. He took another deep breath.

  
  


“Look, I’m not pushing you for anything. We can change the subject,” Benny assured him. He watched Castiel clench and unclench his hands a few times.

  
  


“No. No, it’s ok.” Castiel took another deep breath. Benny lightly placed his hand over Castiel’s. Castiel grasped Benny’s hand lightly between his two hands.

  
  


“Where to begin?” He held Benny’s hand tighter and Benny put his other hand on top of Castiel’s. “I always knew I was different. I didn’t know how or in what way, but I never really fit in…any where. I grew up in a strict Catholic family. My parents even had me go to therapists and therapy camps when I was very young. I didn’t know why. I just knew it was supposed to help me learn how to “socialize normally” since apparently, I was not normal. It only made me feel even more awkward and less normal.”

  
  


Benny squeezed his hands in comfort. “Sometimes parents think they’re doing the right thing and it just makes things worse.”

  
  


“Yeah, well, the older I got the harder they pushed it on me, until my older brothers and sister intervened. They could see that it was changing me into an apathetic zombie.” He looked up to stave off tears he felt might come. “I didnt have to go to therapy or camp any longer with those people. Though I did have a more traditional therapist for a time.”

  
  


He took a swallow of his tea and entwined his hands back into the warmth of Benny’s grasp.

  
  


“I began to rebel as any teen would, but worsened the older I got. I got put back in therapy, put in detention homes, and eventually, they just kicked me out, disowned me, revoked my inheritance and my trust fund. I lived in different friends basements and garages, sometimes sneaking to stay with my brothers. My parents threatened to take away everything from them if they helped me. They thought eventually I’d break and come back home.”

  
  


“I finished high school, top in my class and earned several scholarships. They never knew and never came to my graduation. I was so busy working hard to make something of myself that I never had much time to be a kid. The only true time was between 14 and 16, right before I was disowned, mainly for being friends with the poorer kids ‘from the wrong side of the tracks.’”

  
  


Benny squeezed his hands tightly. “You made it through though.”

  
  


“Yes, I put myself through medical school, because it's a family thing that I grew up around, but mainly because I really wanted to help people. Except I accepted a position at a hospital that paid for some of my education in return for being under contract with them when I finished my internship and residency. Turns out, it is the same medical corporation my mother works for. So, I had gotten myself out of the frying pan and into the fire. She made my life a living hell at every turn.”

  
  


Castiel took another swallow of his tea.

  
  


“The best thing about it was meeting Meg, my eventual wife. She was a nurse and we hit it off. Sometimes though, to this day, I’m unsure if I married her because I loved her or to once again show my parents they couldn’t control me. Meg lost her job over it. We tried to fight it, but it was pointless. Then she found out she was pregnant, she never wanted children, though I did. We’d gotten into arguments about it before, but she figured she’d go through with it, for me. She knew how much I wanted children.”

  
  


Castiel gulped more of his tea. He took another deep breath and slowly put his hand back in Benny’s.

  
  


“She went into labor, was having a normal vaginal birth.” He took a ragged breath. “Everything was going fine. Then…then it wasn’t. She was in labor a very long time, but finally she’d delivered Claire, everything seemed OK. Meg began saying something wasn’t right. She was crying, then almost screaming. Jack was taking a bit longer and in distress, but then her pressure dropped, she started going into cardiac arrest. There was so much blood.”

  
  


Castiel finished off his tea and quickly reached for the safety and comfort of Benny’s hands again. A tear dropped down his cheek. “They made me leave. Four people dragged me out. I never saw her alive again.”

  
  


“Hey! Nobody wants to see that, man! Go someplace else!” A gruff country accent yelled at them. “You’re ruining everyone’s dinner and on a Sunday, too! You’re both going to hell.” 

  
  


Castiel jumped, he was so startled. He tried to pull his hands back, but Benny still held them, softly rubbing the back of Castiel’s hand with his thumbs.

  
  


“I’m sorry you’re so closed minded that you have trouble seeing two people showing caring concern for each other.” Benny said evenly. There was that quiet intensity emanating from him, but in a dangerous way. If Castiel were the instigator, he’d have had second thoughts about continuing, but it was obvious the man had no thoughts except for his own prejudices.

  
  


Castiel gave a soft, ironic snort. “And here I was always told that  _ I _ was really bad at understanding social cues.”

  
  


“What’d you say, you queer!?!” The man stood, fists held in front, threateningly glaring at Castiel. “You think you’re a badass?  _ I’m  _ the only Badass here!”

  
  


Benny stood and stepped between them.

  
  


“You really need to sit back down. No one is ruining anyone’s dinner, but you. You’re the one causing a scene, being loud, rude, insensitive and obnoxious.”

  
  


Several other diners yelled out “yeah!” and “shut up and sit back down!” “No, he should leave!” and one “Whadya even doin’ in here, you bigoted redneck?!” to the man, before the owner and a very large kitchen worker came in.

  
  


“You need to leave my establishment now. I don’t serve people like you.”

  
  


“Well, you done did, many times.”

  
  


“No more. Leave or my nephew will make you.”

  
  


“Well, I ain’t paying for your nasty chink food anyway, Slant Eyes!” He spit in his own plate of food. “C’mon, Samantha! We’re never comin’ back here again!”

  
  


“But I want to get mine to go, we just got our meal!”

  
  


“They ain’t givin’ you that meal. Ain’t nobody that nice especially these kind of people.” He grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her out of her chair, dragging her with him towards Benny to get to the exit before she could get her feet under her.

  
  


“Ow! Chad you’re hurtin’ me!”

  
  


“I don’t give a gotdamn! We’re leavin’,” he said as he continued dragging her.

  
  


Benny stopped him as the nephew made sure no blows were to come. Castiel and Benny reached down and helped the woman to her feet. Her forearms and elbows had carpet burns and abrasions.

  
  


“Thank y—! Get your filthy faggot hands off me!” Samantha shrieked. Benny let go and she promptly tripped as Chad began to drag her towards the door again.

  
  


There was gasps and ‘oohs’ from the restaurant patrons as she tried gaining footing as he dragged her out the door, berating her the entire way. All eyes inside followed them through the window as Samantha finally gained her feet. She immediately punched Chad in the nose and pushed him towards their truck. There was a collective “OH!” and more than a few, “they deserve each other!” coming from diners.

  
  


“I am so sorry. Please continue with your meals. And free dessert for everyone.” The owner gave a slight bow and began clearing the couple’s table.

  
  


Benny sat back down and pulled Castiel’s hands back into his. There was a few claps to them from nearby that then traveled around from the other patrons in the restaurant. Smiling, Benny nodded at the other diners in thanks.

  
  


Castiel colored, hands tightening nervously on Benny’s, who smiled at him. Benny drew Castiel’s hands up and placed a light kiss. A waiter came with a bottle of chilled white wine, two glasses and poured. “On the house.” He bowed and walked away.

  
  


Benny took one sip. “Mm, that’s a nice wine, but, I’m going to let you drink yours and 

as much as you want, because I can see, besides telling me this difficult experience, that this incident has upset you a bit. I’ll drive us home.”

  
  


Castiel started to protest, but Benny wouldn’t hear it. “You don’t have to tell me anymore, if you prefer not to.”

  
  


Castiel sipped his wine. “No, if you’re still really interested, I need to do it.”

  
  


Benny saw the determination in set of Castiel’s jaw.

  
  


“Then I am all ears, darling.” He rubbed his thumbs over Castiel’s hands softly.

  
  


Castiel took another large sip and continued.

  
  


“I had two beautiful children I had to care for alone. But I was not alone. I had my brother, Gabriel…”

  
  


“Ice cream shop brother! Well, I like him even more now,” he gave Castiel’s hands another reassuring squeeze.

  
  


“And my cousin, Balthazar, and sister Anna. Sometimes even my oldest brother, Michael, would help out, too.”

  
  


“A few times I allowed my parents to see them, until one day I overheard them talking about how they weren’t going to let me corrupt my children the way I corrupted everything I touched, and were going to try to gain custody of them. There was a big argument and I was told all the ills that befell me, including being the cause of Meg’s death, was because of my indecent proclivities and lust for…for men.” Castiel finished his glass of wine. “I was stunned. I didn’t know what they were talking about. I was deep in denial or some traumatized amnesia. I don’t know. I don’t understand where they got that idea from, because at that point I had buried those thoughts…just so I could go on living for my babies.” He looked to the ceiling. “I never let them see the twins again. Cut ties. Just once in a while at the hospital I’d see my mother. She always made things difficult for me, figure out ways to manipulate me and my job, my contract, my siblings.”

  
  


The waiter delivered their meals, and refilled Castiel’s glass. 

  
  


Might we get another glass of water for my friend?” The waiter nodded and left quietly.

  
  


“Just to make sure you stay hydrated.” He winked at Castiel.

  
  


“This looks and smells delicious.”

  
  


“I hope all this hasn’t spoiled your appetite? You deserve a good meal.” 

  
  


“I think I’m OK. I already told the hardest part.” He picked up his chopsticks and began to eat. “This is amazing.” 

  
  


Benny smiled. “I’m pleased. I’d have felt terrible, bringing you to a place to get, verbally abused and have bad food after telling me your trauma.” He laughed. “I’d like to think I know how to take better care of my dates than that, least ways better than your parents.”

  
  


“Yes, though the bar isn’t high when it comes to my opinion of them.” Castiel said with a glint in his eyes.

  
  
  


“I hope your opinion of me is better than them.”

  
  
  


“My opinion, of what I know of you so far, is better than a  _ whole _ hell of a lot of people.”

  
  
  


“I had kept to myself for a long time after Meg died, but then went through a host one night stands with I don’t know how many women, and alternating celibacy. I never…I’ve never been…I started seeing women that were…not what you’d imagine a pillar of the community physician would be with. “

  
  


“We all got our ways of coping. You could’ve picked worse ways.” Benny filled Castiel’s glass again.

  
  


“Oh, but I did, in a way. I finally had my first actual relationship just three years ago.”

  
  


“How old are your children now?”

  
  


“They’ll be fourteen in May.” He downed half of his glass.

  
  


Benny raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  
  


Castiel nodded with a winsome smile and then related a quick summary of his time with Betta, the decadence, debauchery and drugs, the night with André, the photographs and art exhibit, and finally, the move to Cottonwood Falls.

  
  
  


“So, I have never…I’ve never been with a…a man. Ever.” Castiel let out a long held breath. “But I…I want to. I’ve wanted to for as long as I can remember.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and filled his own glass again.

  
  


“Not long after I was told about the backlash from the art exhibit, I got very drunk, and ironically remembered two incidents. One from when I was in kindergarten and my best friend at the time, Inias, and I were hugging and kissing, just lip to lip pecks like kids do, like we saw in old films. The nun who was on yard duty saw us, grabbed us by the ears and whipped us on the legs with a ruler. We wore very short Catholic Boys School uniform shorts. My legs were purple for weeks. That was my first kiss and it was a boy.”

“Oh, I remember the nuns from my own Catholic school days.” Benny shook his head.

  
  


“My second drunken remembrance was during the time right before my parents kicked me out. My wrong side of the tracks friends and I had gotten liquor, like we somehow managed on the weekends, even though we were only fourteen and fifteen. I remembered waking up in the master bedroom of this recently abandoned house we used as our own. There were three of us in the king-sized master bed. No shirts, pants unfastened and pulled down enough to masturbate and suck each other off, but we had all passed out before completion.” Castiel sipped more wine.

  
  


“My only adult moments…experience, was my moments with André and the kiss between you and I in your bedroom.” He finished off his wine and shook his head. “I don’t know why I’ve never had the wherewithal, the courage…”

  
  


“We all come into it in our own time.” Benny reached out and put his hand on Castiel’s. “My timetable and experience is not yours and you cannot try to live going by the experiences of others.”

  
  


“But see, I’m…I’m ready now, to speak my truth, to…to be gay. I think I’m drunk.”

  
  


Benny chuckled and pushed his water glass towards Castiel. “You better drink some of this so you stay hydrated. But brotha, I am all for that.” He toasted Castiel with his glass of tea.

  
  


Castiel drank his water, then finished off the bottle of wine.

  
  


They split a desert and Benny left a large tip when the owner told them their meal was on the house. It was 6:45 when they walked arm and arm back to Castiel’s car. Benny got him settled in the passenger seat and drove them back to Cottonwood Falls.

  
  


Castiel woke up on Benny’s couch at 9:47pm. He slowly sat up, disoriented at first. He was covered in a blanket. Shoes off. A glass of water, his cell phone, keys and wallet were on the table. He heard noise from the kitchen and the smell of coffee. Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his hair. He downed the water and put on his shoes. He stood up and stretched, looking at his watch. He headed to the bathroom, came out, grabbed his things, folded the blanket and picked up the empty glass before heading into the kitchen.

  
  


“How do you take it?” Benny was just filling a cup with steaming coffee.

  
  


“Black, two sugars, please.” Castiel looked at him. “Thank you, for everything. I seem to be saying that a lot lately.”

  
  


“Darlin’, that’s what friends are for.”

  
  


“Thank You, nonetheless.” He gulped his coffee.

  
  


“You OK to drive? I know you gotta get home to your children. I can drive you over in your car and get my buddy to pick me up.”

  
  


“No, I’m good. I’ll be fine. Besides it’s not far. I’ve driven farther worse, though I’m not proud of that and haven’t done that since before the children were born.”

  
  


“Don’t matter the how far, matters how well you’re feeling.”

  
  


“I’m ok. It’s been over three hours since my last drink.”

  
  


He finished his coffee, Benny gave him his cheese and walked him to his car.

  
  


He turned Cas to face him at the door and brought his hand up to Castiel’s cheek.

  
  


“You really are a treasure that should not be let go, you know that?” His thumb gently brushed back and forth over Castiel’s lips as he studied his face.

  
  


He leaned close pressing Castiel against the car and gave him a slow, deep kiss. His other hand going around his shoulders, putting pressure into the kiss.

  
  


“I envy the man you finally end up with,” He gave a gentle kiss to Castiel’s forehead and pulled away, “but until that time, I’d like to see you again, even if it’s just platonic.”

  
  


“I’d like that. I really think I’d like that.” He got in the car and headed home.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
